


Rain Potter & the Philosopher's Stone

by x_WorldDreamer_x



Series: Thunder & Lightning [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fem Harry Potter - Freeform, Female Harry Potter, Future Relationships, Gen, Harry's different from the books, Rain, rewrite the books
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-17 05:15:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 37,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28719489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/x_WorldDreamer_x/pseuds/x_WorldDreamer_x
Summary: When life gives you rainy days, wear cute boots and jump in the puddles.-UnknownRain Potter was expecting a normal -- well, relatively -- year at her school for witchcraft. She wasn't expecting a family of redheads, a snappy teacher that hated her, and a villainous Dark Lord trying to kill her.
Series: Thunder & Lightning [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2105145
Comments: 14
Kudos: 49





	1. The Mischief Makers

Rain closed her eyes and sighed. How was she supposed to get to Hogwarts if she couldn't find the damn train?

"-- packed with Muggles, of course --"

Rain's eyes flew open as she overheard the phrase. The speaker was a plump woman who was talking to four boys and one girl, all with flaming red hair. If Rain had any other doubts about their possible identity, they vanished at the sight of their pet owl.

"All right, Percy, you go first."

“Excuse me,” Rain called, pushing hard to get her trolley moving.

"Hello, dear." The woman greeted. "First time at Hogwarts? Ron's new, too." She pointed at the youngest boy, who waved at Rain. He was tall, thin, and gangling, with freckles, big hands and feet, and a long nose.

Rain smiled sheepishly. "Yes, ma'am. But I don't know how to..."

"How to get onto the platform?" She finished kindly, and Rain nodded. "Not to worry. All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don't stop and don't be scared you'll crash into it. Here, watch the twins. Fred, you next."

"I'm not Fred, I'm George," said the boy. "Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother? Can't you  _ tell _ I'm George?"

"Sorry, George, dear."

"Only joking, I am Fred." He winked at Rain. "Hurry up, George!"

One after the other, they ran towards the barrier and disappeared.

Rain's eyes widened.

"Go on, dear. Go now before Ron." The plump woman instructed.

Rain gripped her trolley tighter and moved slowly towards the brick wall. At the barrier, Rain shoved her trolley and it slowly rolled through the wall. Rain hesitantly put her hand against the bricks and was pleasantly surprised when she didn't feel anything. She watched, astonished, as her hand went through the wall. Another step forward moved her onto a bright platform separate from the one she just came from. A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to a platform packed with people. A sign overhead said ‘Hogwarts Express, eleven o'clock’. Rain looked behind her and saw a wrought-iron archway where the barrier had been, with the words  _ Platform 9 ¾ _ on it.

“I love magic,” Rain grinned.

Smoke from the engine drifted over the heads of the chattering crowd, while cats of every color wound here and there between their legs. Owls hooted to one another in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and the scraping of heavy trunks.

_ “It’s too noisy.”  _ Amity hissed from her place, wrapped around Rain’s neck. To an unknowing observer, Rain’s boa constrictor looked like a snakeskin scarf.

_ “I know,” _ Rain responded.  _ “Just hold on, I need to find a seat.” _

The first few carriages were already packed with students, some hanging out of the window to talk to their families, some fighting over seats, so Rain meandered down to the other end of the train, which was mostly empty.

She passed a round-faced boy who was saying, "Gran, I've lost my toad again."

"Oh,  _ Neville, _ " she heard the old woman sigh.

A boy with dreadlocks was surrounded by a small crowd.

"Give us a look, Lee, go on."

The boy lifted the lid of a box in his arms, and the people around him shrieked and yelled as something inside poked out a long, hairy leg.

Rain chose the very last compartment, abandoned by the other patrons. She enjoyed the soft, comforting environment of the cabin. She unwound Amity from her neck and set the reptile down on the cushioned seat. She was about to step off the train to grab her trunk, but her path was blocked by one of the red-haired twins she'd followed through the barrier.

“Want a hand?”

“You don’t have to,” Rain assured.

“It’s no problem,” he said. “Oi, Fred! C'mere and help!"

They started to lift the trunk, when Fred’s grip slipped and the trunk crashed back on the ground.

“What do you have in this?” he exclaimed.

“Books,” Rain smiled sheepishly. “Lots of books.”

The twins heaved her book-laden trunk into the compartment.

“Thanks,” Rain said gratefully. She gathered her hair into a ponytail, finally fed up with the strands constantly falling into her face. There was just one disadvantage to pulling her hair back:

"What's that?" asked one of the twins suddenly, pointing at Rain's lightning scar.

"Blimey," realized the other twin, "are you --”

"She  _ is _ ," cut in the first twin, "aren't you?"

Rain crossed her arms. “Am I what?"

_ “Rain Potter,” _ the twins chorused.

“I am,” she said curtly. “And who are you?”

They gawked at her.

Rain raised a brow quizzically.

The twin on the right recovered first. He nudged his brother. “I’m Fred Weasley. This is George.”

“How do you tell who’s who?” Rain asked.

The twins grinned. “You don’t.”

“You’re a couple of mischief makers aren’t you?” Rain realized.

“You already know us so well.” George (maybe) smirked.

“Fred! George!”

Rain glanced out the window to see their mother searching for them.

“That’s our cue,” George smirked.

“See you later, Rain.” Fred waved goodbye.

<Fred and George Weasley>

“Ron you’ve got something on your nose,” Mum said, grabbing their little brother and rubbing the end of his nose.

“ _ Mum _ \-- geroff,” Ron pushed her away.

“Aah, has ickle Ronnie got somefink on his nosie?" Fred teased.

“Shut up,” Ron grumbled.

“Where’s Percy?” Mum wondered.

“He’s coming now,” Ron said.

Percy came striding over, already in his black Hogwarts robe. Most students were already wearing the uniforms, but held off on the robes, because they were so thick, making you sweat in the warmer months. His prefect’s badge glimmered in the sun.

“Can’t stay long, Mother,” Percy sniffed, his nose in the air. "I'm up front, the prefects have got two compartments to themselves --"

“Oh, are you a  _ prefect _ , Percy?” George asked, with an air of great surprise. "You should have said something, we had no idea."

“Hang on,” Fred said, “I think I remember him saying something about it. Once --”

“Or twice --”

“A minute --”

“All summer --”

“Oh, shut up,” Percy said.

“What originality,” Fred muttered.

George snickered.

“How come Percy gets new robes, anyway?” he asked.

“Because he’s a _ prefect, _ ” Mum said fondly.

The twins rolled their eyes.

“Alright, dear, well, have a good term -- send me an owl when you get there.” Mum kissed Percy’s cheek and their older brother wandered back into the crowd.

Mum turned to the twins. "Now, you two -- this year, you behave yourselves. If I get one more owl telling me you've -- you've blown up a toilet or --"

"Blown up a toilet? We've never blown up a toilet," George interrupted.

Fred grinned at his twin. "Great idea though, thanks, Mum."

"It's  _ not funny, _ ” their mother said. “And look after Ron."

"Don't worry, ickle Ronniekins is safe with us," Fred reassured.

“Shut up,” Ron repeated.

“Originality,” George muttered.

Fred coughed into his hand.

"Hey, Mum, guess what? Guess who we just met on the train?" George said.

“Shut up, George,” Fred said under his breath. Rain Potter hadn’t looked too impressed when they gawked at her earlier.

“Who?” Mum questioned.

_ “Rain Potter!” _ George revealed.

Ginny gasped in excitement. "Oh, Mum, can I go on the train and see her, Mum, oh please..."

“Hi!”

Their whole family turned to look to where the voice came from. Rain Potter was leaning out the open window of the train, waving at them with a bright smile.

“Not very good for a couple of mischief makers, are you?” she asked with a chuckle. “Next time you talk about a girl behind her back...try not to get caught!”

Fred gave his twin a ‘Told you so’ look.

George cringed as Rain ducked back into the train.

The train’s whistle blew and the boys clambered into the train.

“Don’t worry, Ginny,” Fred said, noticing their sister’s tears. “We’ll send you loads of owls.”

“We’ll send you a Hogwarts toilet seat,” George added.

_ “George!” _ Mum warned.

“Only joking, Mum,” George placated.

“Not,” Fred said under his breath.

<Rain Potter>

“Can I sit there?”

Rain looked away from the window.

The youngest redhead boy was pointing at the seat across from her.

“Why?” Rain questioned. “Because I’m  _ Rain Potter _ ?”

“No,” he shook his head quickly. “Because -- because I don’t know anyone else.”

“What about your brothers?”

“Would you sit with your older brothers?” Ron asked.

“I wouldn’t know. I don’t have  _ any _ siblings,” Rain said.

“Well, let me tell you, it’s embarrassing,” Ron informed her.

She studied him for a moment. He still had a black mark on his nose. “Have a seat.”

“Hey, Ron. Hey, Rain.” The twins greeted again.

“Sorry, about...you know, before,” George (it must have been) apologized.

“It’s alright,” Rain dismissed. “I suppose I must get used to it, mustn’t I?”

“By the way, next time you’re eavesdropping...try not to get caught,” George smirked.

Rain blinked. “Touché. I think we’re going to get along splendidly.”

***

“Sorry, but have you seen a toad at all?”

It was the round-faced boy Rain had passed on Platform 9 ¾.

Ron and Rain shook their heads.

“I’ve lost him!” he wailed. “He keeps getting away from me!”

“You could check with the prefects,” Rain suggested. “They're at the front of the train.”

“Good idea,” he mumbled drifting off.

“Don’t know why he’s so bothered,” Ron said. “If I’d brought a toad I’d lose it as quick as I could. Mind you, I brought Scabbers, so I can’t talk.”

“Scabbers?” Rain asked.

Ron reached inside his jacket and pulled out a fat gray rat, which was asleep.

Rain slowly pulled her legs up onto the seat, waking the large serpent resting there.

“He's useless, he hardly ever wakes up. Percy got an owl from my dad for being made a prefect, but they couldn't aff -- I mean, I got Scabbers instead." Ron's ears went pink. He seemed to think he'd said too much, because he went back to staring out of the window.

"You might want to keep him away from Amity," Rain warned, feigning ignorance of Ron's ‘slip up’. She didn't think there was anything wrong with not being able to afford things; she didn't have anything until a month ago, but she knew he wouldn't want to talk about it. She hadn't.

"Who's Amity?" Ron asked curiously.

Rain opened her mouth, but hesitated. "Don't freak out," she warned. Rain lifted up the first foot of Amity to show Ron.

His eyes went wide as he caught sight of the boa constrictor. "That's a snake. That's a large snake."

"Yeah," Rain confirmed. "This is Amity. I kind of...rescued her. From the zoo."

"She -- she won't eat Scabbers, will she?"

"No, she's harmless," Rain insisted. "She's not even poisonous."

Amity coiled herself back around Rain's neck. She liked the body heat that Rain emitted.

“Has anyone seen a toad? A boy named Neville’s lost one.”

The door to the compartment opened again, revealing a girl with lots of bushy brown hair and rather large front teeth. She was already wearing her new Hogwarts robes.

“We’ve already told him we haven’t seen it,” Ron said.

“We told him to get help from the prefects,” Rain said.

“And they found him,” Neville said, appearing in the doorway and in his hand, was a toad.

“You guys want to sit with us?” Rain offered.

“Are you first years too?” Ron asked.

“Yes,” Neville answered.

"Are you excited for school? I am. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard -- I've learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough -- I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you." She said all this very fast.

Rain looked at her in surprise. She couldn’t see how Hermione had even breathed in her speech.

"I'm Ron Weasley," Ron muttered.

"Rain Potter," said Rain.

"Are you really?" Hermione questioned. "I know all about you, of course -- I got a few extra books, for background reading, and you're in  Modern Magical History and  The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and  Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century .”

“I am?” Rain asked, appalled. She had a lot of work ahead of her if that was the case. Rain would  _ not _ allow the Wizarding World to iconize her.

"Goodness, didn't you know, I'd have found out everything I could if it was me." Hermione stated.

“I chose extra books on our class topics,” Rain said. “Did you bring those books?”

“Of course!” Hermione said.

“Could I borrow them?” Rain asked.

“You...you want to borrow my books?” Hermione asked quietly.

“Well, yeah, if it’s not a problem,” Rain said.

Hermione nodded so hard, Rain thought her head was going to fall off.

The compartment door opened and a smiling, dimpled woman slid back their door and said, "Anything off the cart, dears?"

“Yes, please!” Rain said, starving after not having breakfast (thanks Dursleys).

The woman was offering Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, Chocolate Frogs. Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, Licorice Wands, and a number of other strange things Rain had never seen in her life. She had no idea what anything tasted like, so she bought a little of everything.

Ron, Neville, and Hermione stared as Rain brought it all back into the compartment and tipped it onto an empty seat.

“Hungry, are you?” Ron asked.

"Starving," Rain answered, taking a large bite out of a Pumpkin Pasty. It was very sweet. And she loved the cream cheese frosting. It was the same kind as was in her carrot cake recipe.

“Those are all sweets. You’ll rot your teeth,” Hermione said.

Rain paused and stared at the other girl.

Hermione blushed. “My parents are dentists.”

“What are dentists?” Neville asked.

“They tend to people’s teeth,” Hermione answered. “Does the Wizarding World not have dentists?”

“No. Why do you need to tend to people’s teeth?”

“Well, what do  _ you _ do if you break a tooth?”

“You grow it back,” Ron said like it was obvious.

“ _ Weird. _ ” Rain muttered.

“Do you want any of this?” Rain asked, gesturing to her stash of candy.

“Are you sure?” Ron asked.

Rain rolled her eyes. "It's not like I'm going to eat all this myself."

“No thanks,” Hermione said. “My parents don’t like my eating too many sweets.”

“But they’re not here, are they?” Rain smirked, holding out a piece.

Hermione bit her lip uncertainly.

Rain waved the candy in front of Hermione’s face. “You know you want to,” she sang.

“Oh, alright,” Hermione gave in, snatching the sweet out of Rain’s hand. “What even is this? Chocolate Frogs? They're not  _ really _ frogs, are they?”

"No," said Ron. "But see what the card is. I'm missing Agrippa."

“What?” Rain and Hermione chorused.

"Oh, of course, you wouldn't know -- Chocolate Frogs have cards, inside them, you know, to collect -- famous witches and wizards. I've got about five hundred, but I haven't got Agrippa or Ptolemy."

“Do you know what House you’ll be in?” Neville asked. He looked very worried about the topic. It had clearly been weighing on him.

“I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad,” Hermione responded.

"I don't really know the houses. I suppose I don't really  _ want _ to know because I don't want any biased opinions. I want to go where I'm meant to, you know?" Rain admitted.

"That’s very wise," Hermione complimented. "What about you two?"

"Gran wants me in Gryffindor." Neville answered despondently.

"Is that where _you_ want to be?" Rain asked.

"I don't know. It's where my parents were." Neville responded.

"What does that matter?" Rain nudged his shoulder.

"Nothing, I suppose." Neville smiled.

"I'll probably be in Gryffindor," Ron chimed in. "My whole family is. Mum, Dad, Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred, George, and Ginny will probably get in next year."

“You have _ five  _ older brothers?” Rain asked.

“Yeah.” For some reason, Ron was looking gloomy. "I'm the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I've got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left -- Bill was head boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy's a prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it's no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand, and Percy's old rat."

"What do your oldest brothers do now that they've left, anyway?" Rain wondered.

"Charlie's in Romania studying dragons, and Bill's in Africa doing something for Gringotts," Ron supplied.

"I heard you went to live with Muggles. What are they like?" Neville asked.

Rain soured and pursed her lips. "Horrible -- well, not all of them. My aunt and uncle and cousin are, though."

"Anyway...what's your quidditch team?" Ron asked, changing the subject.

"I like the Montrose Magpies," Neville answered.

"Er -- I don't know any," Rain confessed.

"Me neither," Hermione agreed.

"What!" Ron looked dumbfounded. "Oh, you wait, it's the best game in the world --" And he was off, explaining all about the four balls and the positions of the seven players, describing famous games he'd been to with his brothers and the broomstick he'd like to get if he had the money, not that Rain understood most of it. He was just taking Rain and Hermione through the finer points of the game when the compartment door slid open yet again.

Three boys entered, and Rain recognized the middle one at once: she met the pale boy in Madam Malkin's robe shop when she had been taken to get her school supplies. He was looking at Rain with a lot more interest than he'd shown back in Diagon Alley.

"Is it true?" he asked. "They're saying all down the train that Rain Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"

"Yes," Rain confirmed. She glanced back at the other boys. Both of them were thickset and looked extremely mean. Standing on either side of the pale boy, they looked like bodyguards.

"Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle," said the pale boy carelessly, noticing where Rain was looking, "and my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

Rain smiled. "What, like Bond, James Bond?"

Hermione smiled with a giggle.

"What?" Draco Malfoy asked.

"Shaken, not stirred," Hermione added.

Draco Malfoy looked taken aback. "Pardon?"

"It's a movie character," Hermione informed him.

"I've actually only read the books," Rain countered.

Hermione looked interested. "Really? That sounds amazing. I wish  _ I _ could."

Rain nodded. "They were at the library."

"How many books are there?"

Rain grinned. "Too many to count."

"How did you have the time to read all of them?"

"I'm not really allowed to do anything besides read."

" _ What _ are you talking about?" Ron interrupted.

Hermione and Rain looked at each other with smiles on their faces. "You wouldn't understand."

Draco Malfoy gaped at them and reservedly stormed out of the compartment with a swish of his robes. Crabbe and Goyle lumbered after him.

“Well, he does have one thing right,” Hermione said.

“And what’s that?” Ron asked.

“He’s wearing his robes,” Hermione said. “It’s getting dark; I suspect we’re nearly there.”

Rain chuckled. “Not very subtle, Hermione.”

Hermione blushed as Rain started rifling through her trunk for her robe, through in over her shoulders.

“But you have the right idea,” Rain ceded.


	2. The Sorting

<Rain Potter>

A lamp bobbed over the heads of the students on the dark platform and Rain heard a familiar voice echo through the night:

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here!” Hagrid's big hairy face beamed over the sea of heads. "C'mon, follow me -- anymore firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"

Slipping and stumbling, the first years followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was so dark on either side of them that Rain thought there must be thick trees there.

"Ye' all get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."

There was a loud, "Oooooh!"

The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great, black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Rain, Ron, Neville, and Hermione sat together.

_ “Don’t you dare think about falling in the water,”  _ Amity hissed into Rain’s ear.

The fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.

"Heads down!" Hagrid yelled as the first boats reached the cliff.

They all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbor, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles. Then they clambered up a passageway in the rock after Hagrid's lamp, coming out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle. They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak front door.

Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.

The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern face and Rain's first thought was that this was not someone to cross.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid announced.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here.” McGonagall pulled the door wide.

The entrance hall was so big you could have fit the whole of the Dursleys' house in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors.

The group of first years followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Rain could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right -- where she assumed the rest of the school was -- but Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather close together, more so than they would usually have done, peering about nervously.

“Welcome to Hogwarts,” began Professor McGonagall. “The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your Houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your House will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your House, sleep in your House's dormitory, and spend free time in your House's common room.

“The four Houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each House has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your House points, while any rulebreaking will lose House Points. At the end of the year, the House with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honor.

“I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever House becomes yours. The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on Ron's smudged nose. Rain tugged the tie out of her hair and ran her hands nervously through the ends.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."

"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" Rain asked Ron.

"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking."

Rain snorted. “I wouldn’t trust anything he says.”

Then something happened that made her jump about a foot in the air -- several people behind her screamed.

Rain gasped along with the people surrounding her.

About twenty ghosts just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. They seemed to be arguing. What looked like a fat, little monk was saying: "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance --"

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost -- I say, what are you all doing here?" A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years.

Nobody answered.

"New students!" exclaimed the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"

A few people nodded mutely.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" cheered the Friar. "My old house, you know."

"Move along now," commanded a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start." Professor McGonagall had returned.

Rain swore the ghosts looked directly at her and they  _ knew _ who she was. They mouthed her name. She  _ saw _ it. They spoke to each other too softly for Rain to hear as they drifted through the opposite wall.

The Great Hall was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting.

Professor McGonagall led the first years up there, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight.

Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver and the hairs on the back of Rain’s neck stood on end with their stares.

To avoid all the staring eyes, Rain looked upward and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. She heard Hermione whisper, "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in  Hogwarts, A History ."

Rain couldn’t believe there was a ceiling there at all. Logically, she knew it was, but it looked like the Great Hall opened onto the heavens.

Rain’s attention was drawn downwards by the clacking sound of the three-legged stool of McGonagall making contact with the stone floor.

On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat. This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty. Aunt Petunia wouldn't have let it in the house.

Noticing that everyone in the hall was staring at the hat, Rain stared at it too.

For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth -- and the hat began to sing:

_Oh,_ _you_ _may_ _not_ _think_ _I'm_ _pretty,_ _  
_ _But_ _don't_ _judge_ _on_ _what_ _you_ _see,_ _  
_ _I'll_ _eat_ _myself_ _if_ _you_ _can_ _find_ _  
_ _A_ _smarter_ _hat_ _than_ _me_.  
 _You_ _can_ _keep_ _your_ _bowlers_ _black,_ _  
_ _Your_ _top_ _hats_ _sleek_ _and_ _tall,_ _  
_ _For_ _I'm_ _the_ _Hogwarts_ _Sorting_ _Hat_ _  
_ _And_ _I_ _can_ _cap_ _them_ _all_.  
 _There's_ _nothing_ _hidden_ _in_ _your_ _head_ _  
_ _The_ _Sorting_ _Hat_ _can't_ _see,_ _  
_ _So_ _try_ _me_ _on_ _and_ _I_ _will_ _tell_ _you_ _  
_ _Where_ _you_ _ought_ _to_ _be_.  
 _You_ _might_ _belong_ _in_ _Gryffindor,_ _  
_ _Where_ _dwell_ _the_ _brave_ _at_ _heart,_ _  
_ _Their_ _daring,_ _nerve,_ _and_ _chivalry_ _  
_ _Set_ _Gryffindors_ _apart;_ _  
_ _You_ _might_ _belong_ _in_ _Hufflepuff,_ _  
_ _Where_ _they_ _are_ _just_ _and_ _loyal,_ _  
_ _Those_ _patient_ _Hufflepuffs_ _are_ _true_ _  
_ _And_ _unafraid_ _of_ _toil;_ _  
_ _Or_ _yet_ _in_ _wise_ _old_ _Ravenclaw,_ _  
_ _If_ _you've_ _a_ _ready_ _mind,_ _  
_ _Where_ _those_ _of_ _wit_ _and_ _learning,_ _  
_ _Will_ _always_ _find_ _their_ _kind;_ _  
_ _Or_ _perhaps_ _in_ _Slytherin_ _  
_ _You'll_ _make_ _your_ _real_ _friends,_ _  
_ _Those_ _cunning_ _folk_ _use_ _any_ _means_ _  
_ _To_ _achieve_ _their_ _ends_.  
 _So_ _put_ _me_ _on!_ _Don't_ _be_ _afraid!_ _  
_ _And_ _don't_ _get_ _in_ _a_ _flap!_ _  
_ _You're_ _in_ _safe_ _hands_ _(though_ _I_ _have_ _none)_ _  
_ _For_ _I'm_ _a_ _Thinking_ __Cap!

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again.

"So we've just got to try on the hat!" Ron whispered to Rain. "I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll."

“I told you not to believe him,” Rain whispered back.

Professor McGonagall stepped forward, holding a long roll of parchment. "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted."

“Abbott, Hannah!”

A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell over her eyes, and sat down. There was a moment’s pause before --

“HUFFLEPUFF!” shouted the hat.

The table on the middle right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table.

Rain saw the Fat Friar look away from her, which was strange, long enough to wave merrily at Hannah.

“Bones, Susan!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!” shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.

“Boot, Terry!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

The table in the middle left clapped this time; evidently the Ravenclaw table.

“Brocklehurst, Mandy!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

“Brown, Lavender!”

“GRYFFINDOR!”

The table on the far left exploded with cheers; Rain could see Ron's twin brothers catcalling.

“Bulstrode, Millicent!”

“SLYTHERIN!”

“Corner, Michael!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

“Crabbe, Vincent!”

“SLYTHERIN!”

“Davis, Tracey!”

“SLYTHERIN!”

“Finch-Fletchley, Justin!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

“Finnigan, Seamus!”

Sometimes the hat shouted the House at once, but for some it took a little while to decide. Seamus sat on the stool for almost a minute before the hat called out:

“GRYFFINDOR!”

“Granger, Hermione!”

"Good luck!" Rain whispered quickly and Hermione shot her a grin. She almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head.

“GRYFFINDOR!”

Ron groaned. Rain hit him lightly on the arm.

“Greengrass, Daphne!”

“SLYTHERIN!”

“Goldstein, Anthony!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

“Goyle, Gregory!”

“SLYTHERIN!”

“Hopkins, Wayne!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

“Jones, Megan!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

“Longbottom, Neville!”

Neville Longbottom was called; he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide with Neville.

“GRYFFINDOR!”

Neville ran off still wearing the Sorting Hat, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to pass it on.

“MacDougal, Morag!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

“Macmillian, Ernie!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

“Malfoy, Draco!”

Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called and got his wish at once: the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed:

“SLYTHERIN!”

“Moon, Leanne!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

“Nott, Theodore!”

“SLYTHERIN!”

“Parkinson, Pansy!”

“SLYTHERIN!”

“Patil, Padma!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

“Patil, Parvati!”

“GRYFFINDOR!”

“Potter, Rain!”

As Rain stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.

"Potter, did she say?"

" _ The _ Rain Potter?"

The last thing Rain saw before the hat dropped over her eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at her. Next second, she was looking at the black inside of the hat.

_ “Hmm,” _ said a small voice in her ear.  _ “Difficult. Very difficult. You have an outstanding loyalty to your friends. Very Hufflepuff of you. Not a bad mind either; you could be a good Ravenclaw. Plenty of courage, I see. A Gryffindor quality. But -- oh my, a nice thirst to prove yourself. A nice dose of ambition for Slytherin. So...where shall I put you? Where do you think you belong?” _

_ “You’re asking  _ me _?” Rain thought. “Aren’t you supposed to just sort me?” _

_ “That _ is  _ supposed to be my job, isn’t it. But tell me what you’re thinking.” _

_ “Well, you said I’m loyal to my friends, but I don’t have any friends. And I’m certainly not loyal to the Dursleys.” _

_ “So no Hufflepuff?” _

_ “No Hufflepuff. And I may like to read, but that’s for enjoyment, not studiously. So that rules out Ravenclaw.” _

_“You_ _could_ _be_ _great,_ _you_ _know,_ _it's_ _all_ _here_ _in_ _your_ _head,_ _and_ _Slytherin_ _will_ _help_ _you_ _on_ _the_ _way_ _to_ _greatness,_ _no_ _doubt_ _about_ _that_.”

_ “I  _ do  _ want to prove myself. That’s the ambition you felt….but I don’t want to be great. So that’s a no on Slytherin...which leaves...” _

_ “Well done, Miss Potter. Better be  _ GRYFFINDOR!”

Rain heard the hat shout the last word to the whole hall.

She took off the hat and walked happily towards the Gryffindor table. She was so excited to, as Professor McGonagall said, form a family, that she didn't even notice that she was getting the largest cheer yet.

Percy got up and shook her hand vigorously.

The Weasley twins chanted, "We got Potter! We got Potter!"

Rain sat down opposite the ghost in the ruff she'd seen earlier. The ghost smiled softly at her and patted her arm, giving Rain the sudden, wonderful feeling that she'd just come in from standing out in the pouring rain.

And now there were only four people left to be sorted.

“Thomas, Dean!”

“GRYFFINDOR!”

“Turpin, Lisa!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

“Weasley, Ronald!”

Rain crossed her fingers under the table.

“GRYFFINDOR!”

Rain joined her table in rambunctious applause as Ron collapsed into the chair next to her.

"Well done, Ron, excellent," said Percy Weasley pompously.

“Zabini, Blaise!”

“SLYTHERIN!”

And just like that, the Sorting Ceremony was over.


	3. The First Year Gryffindors

<Rain Potter>

Albus Dumbledore rose to his feet. Rain recognized him from the Chocolate Frog Witch and Wizard Cards they passed around on the train earlier. He beamed at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.

“Welcome,” he said. “Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!”

“Is -- is he a bit mad?” Rain asked Percy uncertainly.

“Mad?” Percy said gaily. “He’s a genius! Best wizard in the world. But yes, a bit mad. Potatoes, Rain?”

Rain was speechless. The golden platters that were empty only a few seconds ago were now piled high with food of all sorts. She had never seen so many dishes in one place, she didn’t know where to begin.

The Dursleys had never exactly starved Rain, but she'd never been allowed to eat as much as she liked. Dudley had always taken anything that Rain really wanted, even if it made him sick.

Rain took only a little bit of everything, wanting to taste the various flavors, but unable to eat as much as others due to her shrunken stomach from eating less for eleven years.

"That does look good," the ghost in the ruff said sadly, watching Rain cut up her steak. "I don't think I've introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower."

"I know who you are!" Ron exclaimed suddenly. "My brothers told me about you -- you're Nearly Headless Nick!"

"I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy -- " the ghost began stiffly, but the sandy-haired Seamus Finnigan interrupted.

"Nearly Headless? How can you be nearly headless?"

Sir Nicholas looked extremely miffed, as if their little chat wasn't going at all the way he wanted.

“Like this.” Sir Nicholas seized his left ear and pulled. His whole head swung off his neck and fell onto his shoulder as if it was on a hinge. Someone had obviously tried to behead him, but not done it properly. Looking pleased at the stunned looks on their faces, Nearly Headless Nick flipped his head back onto his neck, coughed, and said, "So -- new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the house championship this year? Gryffindors have never gone so long without winning. Slytherins have got the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable -- he's the Slytherin ghost."

The Slytherin ghost sat at the table across the room from the Gryffindors with blank staring eyes, a gaunt face, and robes stained with silver blood, right next to Draco Malfoy, who looked displeased by the ghost’s presence.

“How did he get covered in blood?” Seamus asked with great interest.

“I never asked,” Sir Nicholas said delicately.

The delicious plates of food vanished to whence they came and were replaced by a plethora of desserts. Blocks of ice-cream in every flavor you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate eclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, Jell-O, rice pudding…

Rain grabbed a slice of apple pie and was glad it wasn’t as good as her own recipe, since she was already full from the huge dinner just previously.

The talk of the table turned to families.

"I'm half-and-half," Seamus said. "Me dad's a Muggle. Mum didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him."

"Couldn't that have ended badly?" Rain asked, recalling the hatred of magic the Dursleys held.

“What do ya mean?”

“I mean, what if your dad despised the idea of magic?” Rain said. “My relatives hate magic, so they treat me like a second-class citizen. Your dad could’ve been disgusted by your mother, but they were already married.”

“Huh,” Seamus frowned. “Never thought about it like that.”

There was a moment of silence between the first years.

“What about you, Neville?” Ron asked.

"Well, my gran brought me up and she's a witch," Neville said, “"but the family thought I was all-Muggle for ages. My Great Uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me -- he pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once. I nearly drowned -- but nothing happened until I was eight. Great Uncle Algie came round for dinner, and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my Great Auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced -- all the way down the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased, Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces when I got in here -- they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great Uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad."

Rain pursed her lips but didn't say anything this time. It was becoming clearer that witches and wizards held the same feelings towards Muggles that the Dursleys held towards witches and wizards. It wasn't right. On either side.

But change isn’t easy, it takes time.

Rain couldn’t just swoop in and force her opinions on the Wizarding World. Well, she probably could with her being famous and all...but she wasn’t in the habit of doing so. What she  _ could  _ do was change the direction of the tide, little by little.

“What about you, Dean?” Seamus asked.

“My whole family’s Muggles,” Dean shrugged. “They were really confused when Professor McGonagall came with my letter.”

“What about you girls?” Rain asked Lavender and Parvati.

“I’m a pureblood.” Lavender stated.

“Wait, what’s that?” Dean questioned.

“It has to do with magical bloodlines,” Neville said.

“ _ Some _ families believe they’re better than others because they’re  _ pureblood _ and can trace back their families in witches and wizards for generations,” Parvati explained.

“Other families don’t care,” Ron added. “I’m a pureblood.”

Rain pointed at Neville.

“Pureblood,” Neville said.

She pointed at Seamus.

“Half-blood,” Seamus said.

“Half-blood?” Rain repeated.

“Yeah, half Muggle, half wizard.”

She raised a brow curiously, but moved on, pointing at Parvati.

“Pureblood,” Parvati confirmed.

She pointed at Dean.

“Muggleborn,” Ron answered.

Rain pointed at herself.

“Half-blood,” Ron, Neville, Seamus, Lavender, and Parvati chorused.

“Why?” Rain wondered. “Both of my parents were magical.”

“Yes, but your mother was a muggleborn, so you still have  _ some _ Muggle blood in you,” Lavender explained.

“I’m going to have to get used to people knowing things about me, aren’t I?” Rain muttered.

“Yes,” everyone besides Dean agreed.

Dean leaned back. “ _ Creepy. _ Glad I’m not you, mate.”

“Thanks,” Rain snorted.

On Rain's other side, Percy Weasley and Hermione were talking about lessons ("I do hope they start right away, there's so much to learn, I'm particularly interested in Transfiguration, you know, turning something into something else, of course, it's supposed to be very difficult --"; "You'll be starting small, just matches into needles and that sort of thing --").

Rain decided not to think about lessons just yet. She would have to do so for the next ten months, she wasn’t anxious to get started.

Eventually, the hall fell silent as Dumbledore rose to his feet again and the desserts disappeared.

"Ahem -- just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. first years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins.

A Forbidden Forest, huh? Sounds intriguing. She’ll have to ask the Mischief Makers about it.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their House teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

"He's not serious?" Rain muttered to Percy.

"Must be," Percy said, frowning at Dumbledore. "It's odd, because he usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere -- the forest's full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that."

Dangerous Beasts? Rain will definitely be checking  _ that _ out.

***

Up high in one of the towers, past an oil painting of a woman in a pink, victorian dress, through a plush common room with comfy chairs and couches, warmed by blazing fireplaces, the female firsties found their beds at last: four four-posters hung with deep red, velvet curtains. Their trunks had already been brought up.

Exhausted after their exciting night, the girls changed into pajamas and climbed into bed.

Rain curled up, leaning on her pillow, unwrapped Amity from her neck and paged through  Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling until she found her place.

Amity coiled up under the blankets beside Rain’s belly, relishing in the body heat emanating from her core.

“Aren’t you going to bed?” Parvati asked.

“Not just yet,” Rain said.

“What  _ are _ you doing?” Lavender yawned.

“I read a bit before falling asleep. I have for years,” Rain said.

“Won’t you be tired tomorrow?” Hermione inquired.

“I don’t sleep much. I’ll probably be up before you too.”

It was an unfortunate side effect of living with the Dursleys. Much like her shrunken stomach, Rain’s body had become accustomed to little sleep. The chores her relatives provided her began with breakfast, much before the rest of the household rose with the sun. and lasted late into the night, well after the moon had risen and often she wasn’t in bed until the clocks had announced the beginning of the next day.

“Go to bed, I’ll be fine,” Rain assured.

The other girls gave her skeptical looks, but closed their curtains, leaving Rain to her own devices.

" _Do_ _you_ _like_ _this_ _place?_ " She asked her serpent.

 _"I_ _think_ _I'll_ _quite_ _enjoy_ _it_ _here,_ _Amiga_. _"_

 _"Me_ _too_. _"_

***

Rain’s prediction was right. She was up before her roommates, and before the sun, despite her reading until her candle burned out the night before.

That gave Rain the opportunity to freely examine their dorm more than she had last night.

Each girl received one of the beds (duh), along with a wardrobe. Great. Rain didn’t have many clothes. She left the horrible dresses Petunia had bought her and the scavenged clothes from Dudley at Privet Drive and only brought the bland multiples of the white, button-up shirt, grey, pleated skirt, grey socks, and grey sweater and a couple of Vernon’s old shirts as nightwear. Nevertheless, Rain hung them in her wardrobe and was shocked when the clothes shrunk to accommodate more clothes, not that she needed it and was glad to see a mirror inside the door.

The girls were lucky enough to receive the room at the top of the tower, so the five equidistant windows presented a wonderful 360 view of the castle, and the forests beyond, and even the lake they crossed last night.

She wandered out the door and found a communal bathroom for all the Gryffindor girls five floors down.

By the time Rain returned to her room, Lavender and Parvati were up and getting dressed.

Rain greeted them with a good morning and followed their lead, changing into her uniform for the first day of school. Looking in her mirror, Rain gathered her hair up into a ponytail. That was literally the only thing she could do with it. It was too long and heavy to stay in a bun and Rain had no idea how to braid the thick locks or do anything else.

As she smoothed out the top, she heard whispering behind her, only capable of coming from Lavender and Parvati.

“Do you see it?”

“See what?”

_ “It!” _

“Oh, Merlin, it’s the scar!”

“Uh huh!”

“ _ The _ scar!”

Rain whirled around. “Yes, I am Rain Potter. Yes, I am famous. Yes, I apparently defeated Voldemort.” She ignored their gasps. “Yes, I have a scar from that night.” With each statement, Rain stepped closer to her roommates, until she was face-to-face, leaning in to them. “But I am  _ also _ an eleven year old girl. Just. Like. You. So take a good long look, and GET! OVER! IT!” she screamed.

Hermione shot up in bed. “What’s going on?”

_ “Is everything alright, Amiga?”  _ Amity slithered out from under the covers.

Rain’s three roommates screamed and scrambled backwards, away from the serpent. Hermione tumbled off her bed in her efforts.

_ “Chill,” _ Rain said, her hands flying up to cover her ears. “It’s only Amity.”

The three girls stood frozen in shock as Rain held out a hand for the two meter long serpent. Amity circled the arm, climbing up to Rain’s shoulders, where she draped herself around Rain’s neck and looked just like the scarf the girls saw Rain wearing last night at dinner.

Unfortunately, Lavender and Parvati weren’t the only ones stunned by her arrival at Hogwarts.

"There, look."

"Where?"

"Next to the girl with the bushy hair."

"Wearing the glasses?"

"Did you see her face?"

"Did you see her _ scar _ ?”

The kids, from First Year through Seventh, stood on tiptoe to see her in the corridors. Many doubled back to pass her in the halls, staring. Always staring.

It  _ did _ make it easier to find and get to class when a path was cleared for her.

So Rain carried her books with her head held high, determined not to flinch with the sudden attention she received.

The first year Gryffindors began with Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall.

Lavender and Parvati had gotten over their adoration of Rain’s scar at breakfast (and Hermione had lost her starstruck look on the train yesterday) -- though they were still (understandably) a bit wary of Amity -- so the four girls walked to class together.

The room had four rows of two-person desks arranged in three columns, facing a large chalkboard behind the teacher’s desk at the front. On the teacher’s desk was a tabby cat with suspiciously square markings around its eyes.

Hermione tried to sit in the front row, but Rain gestured her into the seat beside her in the second row. Lavender and Parvati chose the table directly to Rain’s left.

Slowly, the room filled up with Hufflepuffs, whom the Gryffindors were sharing the class with. Neville stumbled in the room only a couple minutes before class was to begin. The sound of the bell echoed through the room, and the other Gryffindor boys had still not arrived. Curiously enough, neither had Professor McGonagall.

Rain took another look at the cat on McGonagall’s desk. Could it be possible…?

The three boys thundered into the room.

“Whew, we made it,” Dean said in relief.

“Could you imagine the look on old McGonagal’s face if we were late?” Ron asked.

The tabby jumped off the desk, and when her feet hit the floor, it was McGonagall’s  _ human  _ feet, rather than those of a cat’s.

Rain shared a look of fascination with Hermione.

“That was bloody brilliant!” Ron exclaimed.

“Thank you for that assessment, Mr. Weasley. Perhaps if I were to transfigure Mr. Finnigan, Mr. Thomas, or yourself into a pocketwatch, one of you might be on time.” McGonagall raised a brow.

“We got lost,” Seamus explained.

“Then perhaps a map? I trust you don’t need one to find your seats?”

The three boys scrambled into their seats. Seamus and Dean grabbed the table behind Lavender and Parvati, leaving Ron with the empty front seat in front of Rain, beside Neville.

“Why didn’t you wait for me?” Ron whispered over his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, but you were  _ late _ ,” Rain whispered back. She leaned back and focused on Professor McGonagall.

Rain had been quite right to think she wasn't a teacher to cross.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she said. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

McGonagall waved her wand and her desk became a small, pink, squealing pig.

Gasps of awe filled the room, but the eleven year olds were disappointed to not begin immediately. And they wouldn’t be turning furniture into animals for a  _ long _ time.

After a lot of notes that Rain didn’t bother paying attention to, they were finally allowed to take out their wands.

Rain rather liked her wand, and enjoyed her time in Ollivander’s. It was the first information she was ever given about her parents. Her mother’s wand had been good with charms and her dad’s was good for transfiguration.

Ollivander delighted in finding her a wand: a tricky customer, he called her, and Rain felt similarly excited in her anticipation to find the wand for her. Her perfect match came in a wand eleven inches long. The red oak wood was coloured fittingly to its name and sanded to perfection. The handle widened and narrowed in coils that matched the hold of her right hand. The core was a phoenix feather, a brother to Voldemort’s, but she supposed that was fitting. That Halloween ten years ago ties their pasts and their futures together.

_ “What does this wand say about me?” Rain had asked. _

_ Ollivander had quirked an eyebrow. “I’m impressed, Miss Potter. Not many would realize your own characteristics shine through in your wand. _

_ “You have unusually fast reactions, Miss Potter, often mistaken for a hot temper, which will make you a talented duellist. You are capable of adapting to situations quickly, giving you an advantage in a fight. You will be a formidable opponent, Miss Potter.” _

<Hermione Granger>

When given the choice, Hermione always sat in the front row.

But when Rain actually  _ wanted _ Hermione to sit beside her, she couldn’t turn it down.

Hermione didn’t have any friends at her Muggle school. They all thought she was weird, always holding a book up to her nose.

So when she got her Hogwarts letter, she was ecstatic to escape the bullies.

She got so many books at Flourish and Blotts in Diagon Alley to learn about the Wizarding World and so many of them talked about Rain Potter, the defeater of You-Know-Who.

Even more amazing, Hemione  _ met _ Rain Potter on the Hogwarts Express.

But Rain Potter wasn’t what Hermione expected. The girl wasn’t very hero-like. She was very nonchalant about her name and her past. She kept making strange comments about how she would have to ‘get used to her fame’.

But Rain wanted to  _ borrow her books _ . She didn’t think Hermione was strange for getting more books, in fact she even had some herself, only different ones than Hermione chose!

Hermione wasn’t sure about the other two girls in their dorm, they seemed a lot like the girls at her old school. They didn’t care about the pursuit of knowledge school was supposed to be, but Rain got along with them alright, and that linked Hermione to them too.

Could it be possible...that she had... _ friends _ ?


	4. The Potions Master

<Rain Potter>

Every Wednesday, they studied the night sky at midnight, learning the names of different stars and the movements of the planets. Rain enjoyed Astronomy, having spent years awake at night staring at the stars. She already knew the patterns, and was now learning the names to go along with them.

Three times a week, they ventured onto the castle grounds and into Greenhouse One to study Herbology with a dumpy little witch called Professor Sprout. The students learned to care for all the strange plants and fungi and what they were used for. Besides the new magical species, it was quite like tending to Aunt Petunia’s garden, therefore the class wasn’t so hard. And Neville, though quiet, liked that class very much.

The most boring class of all was History of Magic, which was the only one taught by a ghost. Professor Binns had been very old indeed when he had fallen asleep in front of the staff room fire and got up the next morning to teach, leaving his body behind him (or so went the rumors Fred and George had told the first years). His eyes were continually glazed over (as were his students’) as he droned on and on about Emetic the Evil and Uric the Oddball and others Rain didn’t bother listening to, yet Rain swore his eyes occasionally found a focus on her.

Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was a tiny little wizard who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. At the start of their first class he took the roll call, and when he reached Rain's name he gave an excited squeak and toppled out of sight. Rain rolled her eyes.

Rain had really been looking forward to Defense Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell’s lessons turned out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. His turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren't sure they believed this story. For one thing, when Seamus Finnigan asked eagerly to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell went pink and started talking about the weather; for another, they had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and the Weasley twins insisted that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went.

Friday was an important day for Ron. Rain and Hermione trailed behind him as he led the way to the Great Hall without any missteps for the first time.

Hermione and Ron did  _ not _ get on, but their mutual friendship with Rain forced them into each other’s presence, though they tended to ignore each other.

"What have we got today?" Rain asked as she sprinkled cinnamon on her porridge.

"Double Potions with the Slytherins," Hermione answered.

"Snape's Head of Slytherin House,” Ron added. “They say he always favors them -- we'll be able to see if it's true."

Just then, the mail arrived. Rain had gotten used to this by now, but it had given her a bit of a shock on the first morning, when about a hundred owls suddenly streamed into the Great Hall during breakfast, circling the tables until they saw their owners, and dropping letters and packages onto their laps.

This morning, an owl fluttered down between the marmalade and the sugar bowl and dropped a note onto Rain's plate. Rain tore it open at once. It said, in a very untidy scrawl:

_Dear_ _Rain,_ _  
_ _I_ _know_ _you_ _get_ _Friday_ _afternoons_ _off,_ _so_ _would_ _you_ _like_ _to_ _come_ _and_ _have_ _a_ _cup_ _of_ _tea_ _with_ _me_ _around_ _three?_ _  
_ _I_ _want_ _to_ _hear_ _all_ _about_ _your_ _first_ _week_. _Send_ _an_ _answer_ _back_ _with_ _the_ _owl_.  
 _Hagrid_

“Cool,” Ron said. “Can I come and meet Hagrid with you?”

It was lucky that Rain had tea with Hagrid to look forward to, because the Potions lesson turned out to be the worst thing that had happened to her so far.

Potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder here than up in the main castle, and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls.

Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the roll call, and like Flitwick, he paused at Rain's name.

"Ah, yes," he said softly, "Rain Potter. Our new -- celebrity."

Draco Malfoy and his friends Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind their hands. Snape finished calling the names and looked up at the class. His eyes were black like Hagrid's, but they had none of Hagrid's warmth. They were cold and empty and made you think of dark tunnels.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," he began.

He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word -- like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly, simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses. I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death -- if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Rain raised an eyebrow skeptically. What teacher called their students (and got away with it)  _ dunderheads _ ?

Hermione was on the edge of her seat and looked desperate to start proving that she wasn't a dunderhead.

"Potter!" Snape snapped suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Rain snapped to attention. He hadn’t even  _ taught _ them anything yet, and he expected her to be able to answer this question?

Of all the potions she read about in  Magical Drafts and Potions and  A Plethora of Potions: Beginner and Intermediate , neither had  _ both _ asphodel and wormwood.

But there was  _ something  _ curious about the question.

At Privet Drive, Aunt Petunia was exceptionally proud of her garden. Her garden, which  _ Rain  _ tended to. But Petunia always ordered her to plant specific flowers, telling her about the Victorian language of flowers and not send the wrong message. Literally.

Asphodel is death, but also a type of lily saying ‘remembered beyond the grave’ and/or ‘my regrets follow you to the grave’ added to wormwood (regret or bitterness).

I regret the death of Lily and remember her beyond the grave.

Rain fought to keep from smiling.

“I don’t know, sir,” Rain said.

“Tut, tut -- fame clearly isn’t everything. Let’s try again, Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?”

Now that’s not even a potion.

“I don’t know, sir.”

“Thought you wouldn’t open a book before coming, eh, Potter?”

Rain forced herself to keep looking straight into those cold eyes. He clearly had known her mother, his first question, though scathing, could only refer to her. But  _ why _ was he picking on her?

“What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?”

Rain shoulders sagged in relief.

This one  _ had _ been in  One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi .

“Nothing but the name,” she said. “Monkshood, wolfsbane,  _ and aconite _ are the same plant."

“Correct,” Snape sneered. “For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful that it is, in fact, known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons...Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"

There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment.

Professor Snape put them all into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except Malfoy, whom he seemed to like. He was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus's cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.

“Idiot boy!” Snape snarled, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.

"Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at Seamus. Then he rounded on Rain and Ron, who had been working next to Neville. "You -- Potter -- why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's five points you've lost for Gryffindor."

This was so unfair that Rain opened her mouth to argue, again, but Ron kicked her behind their cauldron.

"Don't push it," he muttered, "I've heard Snape can turn very nasty."

Rain gritted her teeth.

_ “Don’t pick battles you can’t win, Amiga,”  _ Amity hissed quietly in her ear.

When they were dismissed, Rain slowly packed up her belongings, much to the confusion of her friends, until they were the only ones left in the room.

“This room is quite dreary, Professor,” Rain said.

Snape scowled at her. “Potter --”

“Perhaps some campanula would brighten it up.”

Rain strode out of the dungeon room with Hermione and Ron at her heels, questioning her statement and Snape’s astounded reaction -- he froze and his mouth  _ actually  _ dropped -- to it.

Campanula, aka Bellflowers:

_ Thank you. _

***

“Back, Fang, -- back.”

Hagrid’s big, hairy face appeared in the crack as he pulled the door open.

“Hang on,” he said. “Back, Fang.”

He let them in, struggling to keep a hold on the collar of an enormous black boarhound.

There was only one room inside. Hams and pheasants were hanging from the ceiling, a copper kettle was boiling on the open fire, and in the corner stood a massive bed with a patchwork quilt over it.

“Make yerselves at home,” Hagrid said, letting go of Fang, who bounded straight at Ron and started licking his ears. Like Hagrid, Fang was clearly not as fierce as he looked.

“This is Ron,” Rain told Hagrid, who was pouring boiling water into a large teapot and putting rock cakes onto a plate.

“Another Weasley, eh?” Hagrid said, glancing at Ron’s freckles. “I spent half me life chasin’ yer twin brothers away from the forest.”

Rain hid her smile. She had yet to go exploring, instead spending her nights utilizing the fantastic library now at her disposal. She delighted in the books about Wizarding society and  _ did _ borrow Hermione’s books that had her in them.

Rain, Ron, and Hermione pretended to like Hagrid’s rock cakes, shapeless lumps with raisins that almost broke their teeth, telling him all about their first lessons.

Fang rested his head on Rain’s knee and drooled all over her robes. Rain was typically a little nervous around dogs -- she’d had bad experiences with Aunt Marge’s dog Ripper who chased her up a tree once, but his personality was likely formed due to living with his warden -- but Fang really was sweet and Rain enjoyed animals. They had a much deeper connection to nature than humans.

Rain told Hagrid about their lesson with Snape -- minus the acknowledgements towards her mother. That was just for her.

“He seemed to really hate me,” she said.

“He couldn’t hate you,” Hermione said. “He’s only just met you.”

“Rubbish!” Hagrid agreed. “Why should he? He hardly likes any students, that’s all.”

Yet Rain couldn’t help thinking that Hagrid didn’t quite meet her eyes when he said that.

“How’s yer brother Charlie?” Hagrid asked Ron. “I liked him a lot -- great with animals.”

Rain wondered if Hagrid changed the subject on purpose.

Ron told Hagrid all about Charlie’s work with dragons, but Rain's attention was caught by a slip of paper under the tea cozy. It was a cutting from the Daily Prophet.

_ GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST _ _   
_ _ Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown. _ _   
_ _ Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day. _ _   
_ __ “But we’re not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what’s good for you,” said a Gringotts spokesgoblin this afternoon.

“Someone broke into Gringotts!” Rain exclaimed.

“Hadn’t you heard?” Ron asked, surprised. “It was all over the Prophet, but I don't suppose you get that with the Muggles. Someone tried to rob a high security vault.”

“Hagrid, you said it was the safest place on earth -- well, besides Hogwarts.”

“Yep,” Hagrid cleared his throat.

“Dad reckons it must have been a powerful dark wizard,” Ron said. “Everyone gets scared when something like this happens in case You-Know-Who's behind it."

Rain glanced down at the paper again. “It happened on my birthday. Hagrid, we were there!”

There was no doubt about it, Hagrid definitely didn't meet Rain's eyes this time. He grunted and offered her another rock cake. Rain read the story again.  _ The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day.  _ Hagrid had emptied vault seven hundred and thirteen, if you could call it emptying, taking out that grubby little package. Had that been what the thieves were looking for?

If it needed protecting, the only place safer than Gringotts was  _ Hogwarts _ .


	5. The Youngest Seeker in a Century

Rain had been looking forward to learning to fly more than anything else.

The wizard boys talked about flying a lot. Malfoy complained loudly about first years never getting on the House Quidditch teams and told long, boastful stories that always seemed to end with him narrowly escaping Muggles in helicopters. He wasn't the only one, though: the way Seamus Finnigan told it, he'd spent most of his childhood zooming around the countryside on his broomstick. Even Ron would tell anyone who'd listen about the time he'd almost hit a hang glider on Charlie's old broom. Everyone from wizarding families talked about quidditch constantly. Ron had already had a big argument with Dean Thomas about soccer. Ron couldn't see what was exciting about a game with only one ball where no one was allowed to fly. Dean told them he had caught Ron prodding his poster of the West Ham soccer team one day, trying to make the players move.

Neville had never been on a broomstick in his life, because his grandmother had never let him near one. Privately, Rain felt she'd had good reason, because Neville managed to have an extraordinary number of accidents even with both feet on the ground.

Hermione was almost as nervous about flying as Neville was. This was something you couldn't learn by heart out of a book -- not that she hadn't tried. At breakfast on Thursday she recited flying tips she'd gotten out of a library book called  Quidditch Through the Ages . Neville was hanging on to her every word, desperate for anything that might help him hang on to his broomstick later.

A barn owl brought Neville a small package from his grandmother. He opened it excitedly and showed them a glass ball the size of a large marble, which seemed to be full of white smoke.

“It’s a Remembrall!” he explained. "Gran knows I forget things -- this tells you if there's something you've forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like this and if it turns red -- oh..." his face fell, because the Remembrall had suddenly glowed scarlet, "...you've forgotten something..."

Neville was trying to remember what he'd forgotten when Draco Malfoy, who was passing the Gryffindor table, snatched the Remembrall out of his hand.

“Look at what we have here,” Malfoy sneered.

Professor McGonagall, who could spot trouble quicker than any teacher in the school, was there in a flash. "What's going on?"

"Malfoy's got my Remembrall, Professor."

Scowling, Malfoy quickly dropped the Remembrall back on the table.

"Just looking,” he said, and he sloped away with Crabbe and Goyle behind him.

Rain frowned as they left. She had no personal reason to hate Draco Malfoy, yet he seemed determined to give her one. She was sure that had she not changed the subject during their interactions, he would have said some scathing remark she could not overlook. If he wasn’t careful, he would be a bully, but he seemed insistent on becoming one. She just didn’t understand.

At three-thirty that afternoon, Rain, Ron, Hermione, Neville, and the other Gryffindors hurried down the front steps onto the grounds for their first flying lesson.

Amity made sure to remind Rain to leave her in the dorms. Snakes weren’t meant to fly.

It was a clear, breezy day, and the grass rippled under their feet as they marched down the sloping lawns toward a smooth, flat lawn on the opposite side of the grounds to the Forbidden Forest, whose trees were swaying darkly in the distance.

Every sight of it she caught made Rain more determined to find a way into the forest.

The Slytherins were already there, and so were twenty broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground. Rain had heard Fred and George Weasley complain about the school brooms, saying that some of them started to vibrate if you flew too high, or always flew slightly to the left.

Their teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived. She had short, gray hair, and yellow eyes like a hawk.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

Rain bit her lip and glanced down at her broom. It was old and some of the twigs stuck out at odd angles. She pushed up her glasses.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch at the front, "and say 'Up!'"

"UP!" everyone shouted.

Rain's broom jumped into her hand at once, surprising her, but it was only one of the few that did.

Hermione's had simply rolled over on the ground, and Neville's hadn't moved at all. Perhaps brooms, like horses, could tell when you were afraid, thought Rain; there was a quiver in Neville's voice that said only too clearly that he wanted to keep his feet on the ground.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," Madam Hooch instructed. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle -- three -- two --"

But Neville, nervous and jumpy and frightened of being left on the ground, pushed off hard before the whistle had touched Madam Hooch's lips.

“Come back, boy!” she shouted, but Neville rose straight up like a cork shot out of a bottle -- twelve feet -- twenty feet. Rain saw his scared, white face look down at the ground falling away, saw him gasp, slip sideways off the broom and -- WHAM -- a thud and a nasty crack and Neville lay facedown on the grass in a heap.

Madam Hooch bent over Neville, her face a white as his.

"Broken wrist." Rain heard her mutter. "Come on, boy -- it's all right, up you get." She turned to the rest of the class. "None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'quidditch.' Come on, dear."

Neville, his face tear-streaked, clutching his wrist, hobbled off with Madam Hooch, who had her arm around him.

No sooner were they out of earshot than Malfoy burst into laughter. "Did you see his face, the great lump?"

The other Slytherins joined in.

"Shut up, Malfoy,” Parvati snapped.

“Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?” Pansy Parkinson said. “Never thought you'd like fat little crybabies, Parvati."

"Look!" Malfoy called, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's Gran sent him."

The Remembrall glittered in the sun as he held it up.

“Give that here, Malfoy,” Rain said, quiet but sure. Her voice drifted over the crowd of first years, silencing them as they all turned to watch. They all wanted to figure out how Rain would handle things.

Malfoy smiled nastily. "I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find -- how about -- up a tree?"

“Give it here!” she called, but Malfoy leaped onto his broomstick and took off. He hadn't been lying; he _ could  _ fly well.

Hovering level with the topmost branches of an oak he called, "Come and get it, Potter!"

Rain set her face and grabbed her broom.

“No!” Hermione shouted. “Madam Hooch told us not to move -- you'll get us all into trouble."

“Neville’s my friend,” Rain whispered to her. “I’m going to defend him.”

Hermione had nothing to say to that.

She mounted the broom and kicked hard against the ground and up she soared; air rushed through her hair (which she had pulled into a ponytail, again), and her robes whipped out behind her -- and in a rush of fierce joy she realized she'd found something she could do without being taught -- this was easy, this was wonderful. She pulled her broomstick up a little to take it even higher, and heard screams and gasps of girls back on the ground and an admiring whoop from Ron.

She turned her broomstick sharply to face Malfoy in midair. Malfoy looked stunned.

"Give it here," Rain called, "or I'll knock you off that broom!"

"Oh, yeah?" said Malfoy, trying to sneer, but looking worried.

Rain knew, somehow, what to do. She leaned forward and grasped the broom tightly in both hands, and it shot toward Malfoy like a javelin. Malfoy only just got out of the way in time; Rain made a sharp about-face and held the broom steady. A few people below were clapping.

"No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy," Rain called.

The same thought seemed to have struck Malfoy.

"Catch it if you can, then!" he shouted, and he threw the glass ball high into the air and streaked back toward the ground.

Rain saw, as though in slow motion, the ball rise up in the air and then start to fall. She leaned forward and pointed her broom handle down -- next second she was gathering speed in a steep dive, racing the ball -- wind whistled in her ears, mingled with the screams of people watching -- she stretched out her hand -- a foot from the ground she caught it, just in time to pull her broom straight, and she toppled gently onto the grass with the Remembrall clutched safely in her fist with a smile.

“RAIN POTTER!”

Rain’s heart sank faster than she'd just dived. Professor McGonagall was running toward them. But Rain still got to her feet, tilting her chin upwards, prepared to defend herself.

"Never -- in all my time at Hogwarts--" Professor McGonagall was almost speechless with shock, and her glasses flashed furiously, "-- how dare you -- might have broken your neck --"

"It wasn't her fault, Professor --"

"Be quiet, Miss Patil --"

"But Malfoy --"

"That's enough, Mr. Weasley. Potter, follow me, now."

Professor McGonagall was sweeping along without even looking at Rain; she had to jog to keep up. Up the front steps, up the marble staircase inside, and still Professor McGonagall didn't say a word to her. The professor wrenched open doors and marched along corridors with Rain trotting miserably behind her. Professor McGonagall stopped outside a classroom. She opened the door and poked her head inside. "Excuse me, Professor Flitwick, could I borrow Wood for a moment?"

Rain quirked a brow. Wood?

Apparently, Wood was a burly fifth year student who came out of Flitwick's class looking confused.

“Follow me, you two,” Professor McGonogall instructed.

Wood looked at Rain questioningly, but she could only shrug her shoulders, just as confused as him.

Professor McGonagall led them into a classroom that was empty except for Peeves, the resident poltergeist who loved to play pranks, and was currently busy writing rude words on the blackboard.

“Out, Peeves!” Professor McGonagall barked.

Peeves threw the chalk into a bin, which clanged loudly, and he swooped out cackling, taking the time to ruffle Rain’s hair.

McGonagall looked at Rain curiously for a moment, before she shook her head and turned back to the task at hand. "Potter, this is Oliver Wood. Wood -- I've found you a Seeker."

Wood's expression changed from puzzlement to delight. "Are you serious, Professor?"

"Absolutely," said Professor McGonagall crisply. "The girl's a natural. I've never seen anything like it. Was that your first time on a broomstick, Potter?"

Rain nodded silently. She didn't have a clue what was going on, but she didn't seem to be in trouble and that was always a good thing.

"She caught that thing in her hand after a fifteen-meter dive," Professor McGonagall told Wood. "Didn't even scratch herself. Charlie Weasley couldn't have done it."

Wood was now looking as though all his dreams had come true at once.

"Ever seen a game of quidditch, Potter?" he asked excitedly.

"Wood's captain of the Gryffindor team," Professor McGonagall explained.

"She's just the build for a Seeker, too," Wood said, now walking around Rain and staring at her. "Light -- speedy -- we'll have to get her a decent broom, Professor -- a Nimbus Two Thousand or a Cleansweep Seven, I'd say."

"I shall speak to Professor Dumbledore and see if we can't bend the first-year rule. Heaven knows, we need a better team than last year. Flattened in that last match by Slytherin, I couldn't look Severus Snape in the face for weeks." Professor McGonagall peered sternly over her glasses at Rain. "I want to hear you're training hard, Potter, or I may change my mind about punishing you." Then she suddenly smiled. "Your father would have been proud. He was an excellent quidditch player himself."

“My dad?” Rain questioned.

“He was one of the best Chasers to go through Hogwarts. A natural on a broom. A talent, Miss Potter, that you seemed to inherit.”

<Fred and George Weasley>

Oliver Wood skipped into the common room and dragged Katie Bell, the second year, away from her friends and to where Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet, Lee Jordan, and the twins were doing homework.

“What’s going on, Wood?” George asked.

“Lee, could you give a minute?” Oliver asked. “Quidditch stuff.”

Lee looked at him skeptically, but got up without protest.

Oliver looked around to see if anyone was listening and leaned in close. “We’ve got a Seeker.”

“What?” Angelina said.

“Who?” the twins asked.

“How’d you find them?” Katie questioned.

“Are they good?” Alicia asked.

Oliver was beaming. “Rain Potter.”

“But she’s a first year!” Fred protested.

“Didn’t they just have their first flying lesson  _ today _ ?” George asked.

“It was her first time on a  _ broom _ ,” Oliver confirmed.

“Then how the hell can she be on the team?” Alicia asked.

“McGonagall saw her. Pulled me out of class to put her on the team.”

“What could she have done in her  _ first _ flying lesson to impress McGonagall?” Angelina asked.

“Caught a Remembrall in a fifteen-meter dive, according to McGonagall.”

“You’re kidding!” Katie said.

“There wasn’t a scratch on her,” Oliver continued. “McGonagall said she was better than Charlie.”

Fred and George whistled. Besides Oliver, they were the only ones who had played with Charlie, and he was a wicked good Seeker. To say the little first year was better than him, meant she was possibly the best to come through Hogwarts.

<Rain Potter>

“You’re joking.”

It was dinnertime. Rain had just finished telling Ron and Hermione what had happened when she'd left the grounds with Professor McGonagall. Ron had a piece of steak and kidney pie halfway to his mouth, but he'd forgotten all about it.

"Seeker?" he repeated. "But first years never -- you must be the youngest house player in about --"

"-- a century," Rain said, shoveling potatoes into her mouth. She felt particularly hungry after the excitement of the afternoon. "Wood told me."

"Congratulations, Rain. You really do have a natural talent," Hermione complimented.

Ron was so amazed, so impressed, he just sat and gaped at Rain.

“I start training next week,” Rain said. “Only don’t tell anyone, Wood wants to keep it a secret.”

Fred and George Weasley now came into the hall, spotted Rain, and hurried over.

“Well done,” George (or was it Fred?) said in a low voice. “Wood just told us. We’re on the team too -- Beaters.”

"I tell you, we're going to win that Quidditch Cup for sure this year,” Fred (or maybe George) said. "We haven't won since Charlie left, but this year's team is going to be brilliant. You must be good, Rain, Wood was almost skipping when he told us."

"I'll do my best." Rain smiled at the older boys.

"Anyway, we've got to go, Lee Jordan reckons he's found a new secret passageway out of the school."

"Bet it's that one behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy that we found in our first week. See you."

A forbidden forest  _ and _ secret passageways? This school keeps getting better and better.

Fred and George had hardly disappeared when someone far less welcome turned up: Malfoy, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle. "Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?"

"You're a lot braver now that you're back on the ground and you've got your little friends with you,” Rain said coolly. There was of course nothing at all little about Crabbe and Goyle, but as the High Table was full of teachers, neither of them could do more than crack their knuckles and scowl.

"I'd take you on anytime on my own,” Malfoy challenged. "Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wands only -- no contact. What's the matter? Never heard of a wizard's duel before, I suppose?"

"Of course she has," Ron said, wheeling around. "I'm her second, who's yours?"

Malfoy looked at Crabbe and Goyle, sizing them up.

"Crabbe," he chose. "Midnight all right? We'll meet you in the trophy room; that's always unlocked."

When Malfoy had gone, Hermione and Rain looked at Ron.

"What is a wizard's duel?" Rain asked. "And what do you mean, you're my second?"

"Well, a second's there to take over if you die," Ron said casually, getting started at last on his cold pie. Catching the look on the girls' faces, he added quickly, "But people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Malfoy'll be able to do is send sparks at each other. Neither of you know enough magic to do any real damage. I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway."

"Well that makes me feel so much better," Rain growled lowly. "And what if I wave my wand and nothing happens?"

"Throw it away and punch him on the nose." Ron suggested.

"Great,” Rain muttered. “This sounds like a fantastic idea.”


	6. The Midnight Duel

<Rain Potter>

Amity hissed at Rain as the witch climbed soundlessly out of bed.

_"I'll_ _be_ _fine_. _I_ _have_ _to_ _do_ _this,_ _Amity_. _"_

 _"I_ _know,_ _Amiga_. _I_ _just_ _worry_. _"_

 _"I_ _know_ _you_ _do,_ _and_ _I_ _appreciate_ _it_." Rain kissed her on the head. _"I'll_ _be_ _back_ _before_ _you_ _know_ _it_. _"_

“Half-past eleven,” Ron muttered as Rain arrived in the common room, “we’d better go.”

Only a few embers remained in the fireplace, turning all the plush armchairs into deep black pits.

“I can’t believe you’re going to do this, Rain.”

Ron and Rain had almost reached the portrait hole when Hermione’s voice chastised them. A lamp flickered on, revealing the girl sporting her pajamas and a frown.

“You!” Ron said furiously. “Go back to bed!”

“I almost told your brother," Hermione snapped. "Percy -- he's a prefect, he'd put a stop to this.”

“I  _ have _ to, Hermione,” Rain said.

“You don’t  _ have _ to do anything!”

“Yes, I do. Draco Malfoy is purposely antagonizing me. He  _ wants _ to cause a fight and I won’t let him get away with it. If I end this tonight, he won’t continue tomorrow,” Rain reasoned. She sighed. “Forget it, Hermione.”

“Come on.” Rain pushed open the portrait of the Fat Lady and climbed through the hole, Ron hurriedly following her.

But Hermione didn’t give up that easily. She trailed after them into the corridor. “Don’t you care about Gryffindor? Do you only care about yourselves? I don’t want Slytherin to win the House Cup, and you’ll lose all the points I got from Professor Mcgonagall for knowing about Switching Spells.”

“Go away,” Ron groaned.

“Alright,” Hermione conceded. “But I warned you, you just remember that tomorrow when I tell you --”

But what she would tell them, they didn’t find out. Hermione turned to the portrait of the Fat Lady to get back inside and found herself facing an empty painting. The Fat Lady had gone on a nighttime visit and Hermione was locked out of Gryffindor Tower.

“Now what am I going to do?” she asked shrilly.

“That’s your problem,” Ron said. “We’ve got to go, we’re going to be late.”

They hadn’t even reached the end of the corridor when Hermione caught up with them.

“I’m coming with you,” Hermione declared.

“You are  _ not _ ,” Ron denied.

“D’you think I’m going to stand out here and wait for Filch to catch me? If he finds all three of us, I’ll tell him the truth. I was trying to stop you, and you can back me up.”

Ah, yes. Argus Filch. The Hogwarts caretaker had a particular hatred for Hogwarts students. He roamed the halls with his cat, Mrs. Norris, a scrawny, dust-colored creature with bulging, lamp-like eyes, searching for rule breakers. Filch knew the secret passageways of the school better than anyone (except perhaps the Weasley twins) and could pop up suddenly at any place in the castle. The students hated him in return, and it was the dearest ambition of many to give Mrs. Norris a good kick.

“You’ve got some nerve --” Ron started loudly.

Rain’s ears caught something in the darkness.

“Shut up, both of you!” Rain whispered fervently. “I heard something.”

In the now silence it was easier to hear the soft snuffling.

“Mrs. Norris?” Ron breathed, squinting into the dark.

It wasn’t Mrs. Norris.

It was Neville. He was curled up on the floor, fast asleep, but jerked suddenly awake as they crept nearer. "Thank goodness you found me! I've been out here for hours, I couldn't remember the new password to get into bed."

"Keep your voice down, Neville,” Ron cautioned. “The password's 'Pig snout' but it won't help you now, the Fat Lady's gone off somewhere."

“How’s your arm?” Rain asked.

“Fine,” Neville answered, showing them. “Madam Pomfrey mended it in about a minute.”

“Good,” Rain said. “I have your Remembrall in my dorm; I’ll give it to you tomorrow. Right now we’ve got to be somewhere, so we’ll see you later --”

“Don’t leave me!” Neville said, scrambling to his feet. “I don’t want to stay here alone, the Bloody Baron’s been past twice already.”

Ron looked at his watch and then glared furiously at Hermione and Neville. "If either of you get us caught, I'll never rest until I've learned that Curse of the Boogies Quirrell told us about, and used it on you."

Hermione opened her mouth, probably to tell Ron exactly how to use the Curse of the Bogies.

“Oh, forget it!” Rain hissed. “Let’s go.”

They flitted along corridors striped with bars of moonlight from the high windows. At every turn Rain expected to run into Filch or Mrs. Norris, but they were lucky. They sped up a staircase to the third floor and tiptoed toward the trophy room.

Malfoy and Crabbe weren't there yet. The crystal trophy cases glimmered where the moonlight caught them. Cups, shields, plates, and statues winked silver and gold in the darkness. They edged along the walls, keeping their eyes on the doors at either end of the room. Rain took out her wand in case Malfoy leapt in and started at once. The minutes crept by.

"He's late, maybe he's chickened out," Ron whispered.

Then a noise in the next room made them jump. Rain had only just raised her wand when they heard someone speak -- and it wasn't Malfoy.

"Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner." It was Filch speaking to Mrs. Norris.

Horror-struck, Rain waved madly at the other three to follow her as quickly as possible; they scurried silently toward the door, away from Filch's voice. Neville's robes had barely whipped round the corner when they heard Filch enter the trophy room.

"They're in here somewhere," they heard him mutter, "probably hiding."

‘This way!’ Rain mouthed to the others and, petrified, they began to creep down a long gallery full of suits of armor.

They could hear Filch getting nearer.

Neville suddenly let out a frightened squeak and broke into a run. He tripped, grabbed Ron around the waist, and the pair of them toppled right into a suit of armor.

The clanging and crashing was enough to wake the whole castle.

"Run!" Rain whispered, and the four of them sprinted down the gallery, not looking back to see whether Filch was following -- they swung around the doorpost and galloped down one corridor then another, Rain in the lead, without any idea where they were or where they were going -- they ripped through a tapestry and found themselves in a hidden passageway, hurtled along it and came out near their Charms classroom, which they knew was miles from the trophy room.

"I think we've lost him," Rain stated, the only one not out of breath. She'd had lots of practice running from Dudley and his gang. On the other hand, Neville was bent double, wheezing and spluttering.

"I -- told -- you," Hermione gasped, clutching at the stitch in her chest, "I -- told -- you."

"We've got -- to get back -- to Gryffindor tower," Ron said, "quickly as possible."

“Malfoy tricked you,” Hermione said to Rain. “You realize that, don’t you? He was never going to meet you -- Filch knew someone was going to be in the trophy room. Malfoy must have tipped him off.”

“I know,” Rain nodded. “But I still have my integrity.”

That was the thing about Malfoy, wasn’t it. He wasn’t a bully; he was a  _ coward _ . He had a lot of talk and no action to follow through. And that’s the worst thing Rain could imagine; that’s the difference between them. Her bite is equal to her bark.

And now he’s made an enemy of her.

Beware Draco Malfoy.

<Peeves the Poltergeist>

The nights at Hogwarts were very silent. Peeves didn’t like it. He liked the loud crowds and many students to have fun with.

But tonight was different, yes, it was.

Four students were in the corridor.

Peeves squealed in delight.

“Shut up, Peeves -- please -- you’ll get us thrown out,” the Weasley said. He had the same red hair as his twin brothers. Peeves rather  _ liked _ the twins. They could appreciate a good laugh even if it was on them. They were one of his favorite bunches. Second only to a group many years ago.

"Wandering around at midnight, Ickle Firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you'll get caughty,” Peeves cackled.

“Not if you don’t give us away, Peeves, please,” the girl with black hair pleaded.

She was the one they were all talking about. She was special. They all knew it. They could all  _ feel _ it. But there was something familiar about her.

“Should tell Filch, I should,” Peeves said, grinning wickedly. “It’s for your own good.”

Wait a minute…

Peeves knew those emerald eyes that were looking up at him trustingly. He heard about them enough during the midnight wandering of his favorite pranksters.

And there it was. Her hair was the same. Wild and crazy and the same ravenous black as her father.

They had pranked him, but they had trusted him too. No one ever had.

Poor, Potty.

“Get out of the way,” Weasley snapped, swiping at him.

No, no, no. No one could do that to Peevesie. Not even a friend of Rain Potter.

"STUDENTS OUT OF BED!" Peeves bellowed, "STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!"

The four firsties ducked under him and raced to the end of the corridor, tugging on the locked door.

“This is it!” Weasley moaned, pushing at the door. “We’re done for! This is the end!”

Peeves hoped they would find a way out. He could hear Filchie’s footsteps running towards him.

“Oh, move over,” bushy-haired girl said. “ _ Alohomora _ !”

Peeves grinned as they shut the door, just in time for Filch to arrive. “Which way did they go, Peeves? Quick, tell me.”

“Say ‘please’.” Peeves demanded, crossing his arms proudly.

“Don’t mess with me, Peeves, now where did they go?” Filch growled.

“Shan’t say nothing if you don’t say please,” Peeves said in his singsong voice he used to annoy people.

“Alright,” Filch relented. “Please.”

“NOTHING!” Peeves shouted in the caretaker’s face. “Ha haaa! Told you I wouldn’t say nothing if you didn’t say please! Ha ha! Haaaaaa!” Peeves whoosed away, taunting Filch.

<Rain Potter>

"He thinks this door is locked," Rain whispered. "I think we'll be okay -- get off, Neville!" For Neville had been tugging on Rain’s nightshirt for the last minute. "What?"

Rain turned around -- and saw, quite clearly, what. For a moment, she was sure she'd walked into a nightmare -- this was too much, on top of everything that had happened so far.

They weren't in a room, as she had supposed. They were in a corridor. The forbidden corridor on the third floor. And now they knew why it was forbidden.

They were looking straight into the eyes of a monstrous dog, a dog that filled the whole space between ceiling and floor. It had three heads; three pairs of rolling, mad eyes; three noses, twitching and quivering in their direction; three drooling mouths, saliva hanging in slippery ropes from yellowish fangs.

It was standing quite still, all six eyes staring at them, and Rain knew that the only reason they weren't already dead was that their sudden appearance had taken it by surprise, but it was quickly getting over that, there was no mistaking what those thunderous growls meant.

Rain groped for the doorknob -- between Filch and death, she'd take Filch.

They fell backward -- Rain slammed the door shut, and they ran, they almost flew, back down the corridor. Filch must have hurried off to look for them somewhere else, because they didn't see him anywhere, but they hardly cared -- all they wanted to do was put as much space as possible between them and that monster. They didn't stop running until they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady on the seventh floor.

"Where on earth have you all been?" she asked, looking at their flushed, sweaty faces.

"Never mind that -- pig snout, pig snout." Rain panted, and the portrait swung forward. They scrambled into the common room and collapsed, trembling, into armchairs.

It was a while before any of them said anything. Neville, indeed, looked as if he'd never speak again.

"What do they think they're doing, keeping a thing like that locked up in a school?" Ron said finally. "If any dog needs exercise, that one does."

Hermione had got both her breath and her bad temper back again. "You don't use your eyes, any of you, do you? Didn't you see what it was standing on?"

"The floor?" Rain suggested. "I wasn't looking at its feet, I was too busy with its  _ heads _ . There were  _ three _ if you didn’t notice."

"No, not the floor. It was standing on a trapdoor. It's obviously guarding something." Hermione stood up, glaring at them. "I hope you're pleased with yourselves. We could all have been killed -- or worse, expelled. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to bed."

Ron stared after her, his mouth open. "No, we don't mind. You'd think we dragged her along, wouldn't you."

But that wasn’t what was on Rain’s mind.

_ It's obviously guarding something. _

It looked as though Rain had found out where the grubby little package from vault seven hundred and thirteen was, emptied before a break-in, and put in Hogwarts for safe keeping.

The only question left was, what was in that package?

***

“It’s either really valuable or really dangerous,” Ron deduced, speaking of the package that seemed to have been moved from Gringotts to Hogwarts after Rain told him about the mysterious trip with Hagrid on her birthday.

“Or both,” Rain said.

But all they knew for sure about the mysterious object was that it was about two inches long. They didn’t have much chance of guessing what it was without further clues.

Neville didn’t show the slightest interest in what lay underneath the dog and the trapdoor. All he cared about was never going near the dog again.

Hermione was now refusing to speak to Rain and Ron, which kind of hurt. Hermione was Rain's first girl friend and they seemed to get along so well on the train and in their dorm. Rain had been looking forward to spending time with her when they got sorted into the same House.

As the owls flooded into the Great Hall as usual, everyone's attention was caught at once by a long, thin package carried by six large screech owls. Rain was just as interested as everyone else to see what was in this large parcel, and was amazed when the owls soared down and dropped it right in front of her, knocking her bacon to the floor. They had hardly fluttered out of the way when another owl dropped a letter on top of the parcel.

Rain ripped open the letter first, which was lucky, because it said:

_DO_ _NOT_ _OPEN_ _THE_ _PARCEL_ _AT_ _THE_ _TABLE_.  
 _It_ _contains_ _your_ _new_ _Nimbus_ _2000,_ _but_ _I_ _don't_ _want_ _everybody_ _knowing_ _you've_ _got_ _a_ _broomstick_ _or_ _they'll_ _all_ _want_ _one_. _Oliver_ _Wood_ _will_ _meet_ _you_ _tonight_ _on_ _the_ _Quidditch_ _field_ _at_ _seven_ _o'clock_ _for_ _your_ _first_ _training_ _session_.  
 _Professor_ _McGonagall_

Rain had difficulty hiding her glee as she handed the note to Ron to read.

"A Nimbus 2000!" he moaned enviously. "I've never even touched one."

They left the hall quickly, wanting to unwrap the broomstick in private before their first class, but halfway across the entrance hall they found the way upstairs barred by Crabbe and Goyle. Malfoy seized the package from Rain and felt it.

"That's a broomstick,” he said, throwing it back to Rain with a mixture of jealousy and spite on his face. "You'll be in for it this time, Potter, first years aren't allowed them."

“It’s not any old broomstick.” Ron couldn’t resist. “It's a Nimbus 2000. What did you say you've got at home, Malfoy, a Comet 260?"

Ron leaned over to Rain. “Comets look flashy, but they're not in the same league as the Nimbus."

"What would you know about it, Weasley, you couldn't afford half the handle,” Malfoy snapped back. "I suppose you and your brothers have to save up twig by twig."

Before Ron could answer, Professor Flitwick appeared at Malfoy's elbow. “Not arguing, I hope?”

"Potter's been sent a broomstick, Professor," Malfoy tattled quickly.

"Yes, yes, that's right," Professor Flitwick said, beaming at Rain, "Professor McGonagall told me all about the special circumstances, Potter. And what model is it?"

Rain grinned. "A Nimbus 2000, sir," her grin turned slightly feral, “and it's really thanks to Malfoy here that I've got it."

Malfoy looked on in horror.

Rain smirked. Malfoy better learn, if you mess with the bull, you get the horns.

Rain and Ron headed upstairs, smothering their laughter at Malfoy’s obvious rage and confusion.

"Well, it's true," Rain giggled as they reached the top of the marble staircase, "if he hadn't stolen Neville's Remembrall, I wouldn't be on the team."

"So I suppose you think that's a reward for breaking rules?" came an angry voice from just behind them. Hermione was stomping up the stairs, looking disapprovingly at the package in Rain's hand.

"I thought you weren't speaking to us?" Rain asked sadly.

"Yes, don't stop now," Ron said, "it's doing us so much good."

Rain slapped his arm.

Hermione marched away with her nose in the air.


	7. The New Friends

<Rain Potter>

The quidditch pitch was beautiful in the dusk light when seven o’clock rolled around. The sunset orange reflected off the three golden poles with hoops on the end on either side of the pitch fifteen meters high bathing the stadium and its hundreds of seats raised in stands around the field so that the spectators were high enough to see what was going on in pink.

Rain, who knew nothing about the brooms, knew instinctively that hers would be wonderful to fly through the pitch. Sleek and shiny, with a mahogany handle, it had a long tail of neat, straight twigs and ‘Nimbus 2000’ written in gold near the top.

Rain recognized the Weasley twins, but couldn’t identify the three girls they were with on the grassy pitch floor.

“Rain!” the twins exclaimed when they saw her. They each swung an arm over her shoulders making her neck bend forward with the weight and sandwiching her between them. “Meet the team!”

“This is Angelina, Alicia, and Katie,” the twin on her right (Fred? Let’s call him Fred) said, while George (or the twin on her left) pointed to each of them in turn.

The girls all greeted her with smiles.

“You excited to be on the team?” Angelina asked.

“I don’t even know how it happened,” Rain admitted.

“Don’t think too much,” Alicia advised. “Just feel it.”

“Rain!” Oliver Wood said, carrying in a large wooden crate under his arm. “Glad you could make it. Tonight, we’re just going to go through the rules, maybe a few simple exercises, and then you join practice three nights a week.”

He opened the crate. Inside were four different-sized balls.

“Right,” Wood began. “Now, quidditch is easy enough to understand, even if it's not too easy to play. There are seven players on each side. Three of them are called Chasers."

“That’s us!” Alicia chimed, gesturing to the girls beside her.

“Three Chasers,” Rain repeated, pointing at the older girls as Wood took out a bright red ball about the size of a football.

Alicia seized it out of his hands. “"This ball's called the Quaffle.”

“The Chasers throw the Quaffle to each other and try and get it through one of the hoops to score a goal,” Angelina explained. “Ten points every time the Quaffle goes through one of the hoops. Understand?”

"The Chasers throw the Quaffle and put it through the hoops to score," Rain recited. "So, that's sort of like basketball on broomsticks with six hoops, isn't it?"

"What's basketball?" Wood asked curiously.

"Never mind," Rain dismissed quickly.

"Now, there's another player on each side who's called the Keeper -- I'm Keeper for Gryffindor. I have to fly around our hoops and stop the other team from scoring,” Wood said.

"Three Chasers, one Keeper." Rain said, determined to remember it all. "And they play with the Quaffle. Okay, got that. So what are they for?" She pointed at the three balls left inside the box.

“We’ll show you,” Fred said. “Freddie, if you will.”

She thought the twin on her right  _ was _ Fred. He still could be considering those two are mischief makers.

But the twin on her left (who she  _ thought _ was George) grabbed a small club, a bit like a short baseball bat.

“These are the Bludgers,” George said, pointing at two identical balls, jet black and slightly smaller than the red Quaffle. They seemed to be straining to escape the straps holding them inside the box.

“Stand back,” he warned. He bent down and freed one of the Bludgers.

At once, the black ball rose high in the air and then pelted straight at Rain's face. Fred intercepted the ball with a harsh swing of his bat, stopping the Bludger from breaking her nose and sending it zigzagging away into the air -- it zoomed around their heads and then shot at Wood, who dived on top of it and managed to pin it to the ground.

“"See?" Wood panted, forcing the struggling Bludger back into the crate and strapping it down safely. "The Bludgers rocket around, trying to knock players off their brooms. That's why you have two Beaters on each team --”

“That’s us!” the twins cheered.

“-- it’s their job to protect their side from the Bludgers and try and knock them toward the other team,” Wood continued. “Think you’ve got all that?”

"Three Chasers try and score with the Quaffle; the Keeper guards the goal posts; the Beaters keep the Bludgers away from their team," Rain reeled off.

"Very good," Wood complimented.

"Er -- have the Bludgers ever killed anyone?" Rain asked, hoping she sounded offhand.

"Never at Hogwarts. We've had a couple of broken jaws but nothing worse than that. Now, the last member of the team is the Seeker. That's you. And you don't have to worry about the Quaffle or the Bludgers --"

"-- unless they crack my head open."

The rest of the team snickered into their hands at Rain’s massive and obvious sarcasm.

"Don't worry, the Weasleys are more than a match for the Bludgers -- I mean, they're like a pair of human Bludgers themselves."

“Aw, Ollie,” Fred said, covering his heart with his hands.

George swooned, catching himself on Wood’s shoulder and batting his eyes. “We didn’t know you thought that way.”

Wood rolled his shoulder, dislodging George and sending him sprawling on the ground. He ignored George’s whining and the team’s laughter and reached into the crate and took out the fourth and last ball. Compared with the Quaffle and the Bludgers, it was tiny, about the size of a large walnut. It was bright gold and had little fluttering silver wings.

“This,” Wood said, “is the Golden Snitch, and it's the most important ball of the lot. It's very hard to catch because it's so fast and difficult to see. It's the Seeker's job to catch it. You've got to weave in and out of the Chasers, Beaters, Bludgers, and Quaffle to get it before the other team's Seeker, because whichever Seeker catches the Snitch wins their team an extra hundred and fifty points, so they nearly always win. That's why Seekers get fouled so much. A game of Quidditch only ends when the Snitch is caught, so it can go on for ages -- I think the record is three months, they had to keep bringing on substitutes so the players could get some sleep. Well, that's it, any questions?"

Rain shook her head. She understood what she had to do all right, it was doing it that was going to be the problem.

“Why don’t we get you in the air for now, huh?” Wood suggested.

Rain nodded eagerly.

Together, the team hopped onto their brooms and rose weightlessly into the air. Instantly, the same feeling from her flying lesson came over Rain. A perpetual feeling of wonder and excitement. She could fly. It was instinctual. She belonged on a broom.

The team merely flew laps around the pitch, but they swerved into and around each other. Rain swirled, spun, and looped through her teammates and the goalposts whooping with joy.

“I see what McGonagall meant. You really are a natural,” Wood speculated. “Want to try something else?”

“Yes!” Rain said excitedly.

Wood pulled out a bag of golf balls.

“Catch,” he said, throwing one as hard as he could into the distance.

Rain dived, knowing where the ball would end up and where she needed to be to catch it and how quickly she needed to get there. She flattened herself to her broom and zoomed downwards. She had enough time to sit up and hold out her hands, waiting for the ball to drop into her palm.

She looked up to where the rest of the team was hovering. They were all staring at her open-mouthed.

“What?” she asked.

“Go,” Wood instructed and the team spread out across the field. They put all their effort into blocking Rain from the golf balls tossed in each and every direction to no avail. She whirled around them sending their heads spinning and by the time night had fallen and they couldn’t carry on, Rain hadn’t missed a single one.

“That Quidditch Cup’ll have our name on it this year,” Wood said happily and the team cheered, piling into a group hug around their captain much to his annoyance.

Maybe it was because she now had quidditch practice three times a week on top of all her homework, but the days started flying by. Rain could hardly believe it when Halloween came around. She had already been at Hogwarts for two months. The castle felt more like home than Privet Drive ever had.

On Halloween morning, the students of Hogwarts woke to the delicious smell of pumpkin wafting through the corridors, but Rain just didn’t feel in the festive mood. Her relatives always told her her parents died on Halloween. Thanks to Hermione’s books, Rain discovered it was the one truth they told. The exuberant celebrations made her skin crawl. She let Ron lead most of the conversations that day.

Her mood slightly improved in Charms, as Professor Flitwick announced that he thought they were ready to start making objects fly, something they had all been dying to try since they'd seen him make Neville's toad zoom around the classroom in their first class. Professor Flitwick put the class into pairs to practice. Rain's partner was Seamus Finnigan. Ron, however, was to be working with Hermione Granger.

It was hard to tell whether Ron or Hermione was angrier about this. Hermione hadn't spoken to either of them since the day Rain's broomstick had arrived.

It was very difficult. Rain and Seamus swished and flicked, but the feather they were supposed to be sending skyward just lay on the desktop. Seamus got so impatient that he prodded it with his wand and set fire to it -- Rain beat out the flames with the sleeve of her robe. She’s put enough of Aunt Petunia’s kitchen fires to not flinch when something around her went up in flames.

Ron, at the next table, wasn’t having much better luck.

“Wingardium Leviosa!” he shouted, waving his long arms like a windmill.

“You’re saying it wrong,” Hermione snapped. “It's Wingardium Levi-O-sa, not Levi-o-SA."

“You do it then, if you’re so clever,” Ron snarled.

Hermione rolled up the sleeves of her gown, flicked her wand, and said,  _ "Wingardium Leviosa!" _

Their feather rose off the desk and hovered about four feet above their heads.

"Oh, well done!" Professor Flitwick cried, clapping. "Everyone see here, Miss Granger's done it!"

Ron was in a  _ very _ bad mood, almost rivalling Rain’s, at the end of class.

"It's no wonder no one can stand her," he said to Rain as they pushed their way into the crowded corridor, "she's a nightmare, honestly."

Someone knocked into Rain as they hurried past her. It was Hermione. Rain caught a glimpse of her face -- and was startled to see that she was in tears.

“I think she heard you,” Rain said crossly.

“So?” Ron said, but he looked a bit uncomfortable. "She must've noticed she's got no friends."

Rain struggled to keep from pulling her fist back and sending it into his face. "I'm her friend, Ron!"

"She hasn't spoken to you in weeks," Ron argued.

Rain growled as she knocked her shoulder against his as she took off after Hermione. She followed her friend through the halls and managed to sight the tail end of her bushy hair going into the bathroom.

She knocked softly on the stall door where she could hear sniffles. "Hermione?"

"What do  _ you  _ want?" Hermione sniffed.

"I want to make sure you're okay," Rain answered. "Ron was a jerk."

Hermione chuckled and unlocked the door.

Rain slipped inside and slid the lock closed again.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked.

"Well, I didn't think you'd want to get out yet, right?" Rain said.

Hermione nodded.

"Then we'll stay right here."

"We?" Hermione questioned.

Rain smiled and pulled Hermione to sit on the floor, wrapping her arms around the tearful girl. "I'm not going to leave you here alone. You're my friend, Hermione."

Hermione sniffed and rubbed at her eyes. "Really? I've never had a friend before,” she said quietly.

"Me neither." Rain admitted.

Hermione laid her head on Rain's shoulder. "What about our lessons?"

"Who cares?" Rain snorted. "Friends are more important."

Hermione smiled up at her friend, before her eyes turned concerned. "Are you alright, Rain? Today? You were...quieter."

Rain sighed. "My parents...I guess I just miss what could have been."

"Oh, Rain." Now Hermione wrapped her arms around Rain. "Then I guess we'll just have to stay here."

So they did. The girls didn't turn up for the next class and weren't seen all afternoon. They spent the time talking about anything and everything, from their childhoods, to favorite books, to wrangling their hair, and anything in between.

It must have been mid-way through the feast Rain didn’t want to attend when they decided it was time to leave the bathroom.

Rain sniffed and gagged. "Uh, what is that smell?"

Hermione's eyes widened as she stepped out of the stall. She poked at Rain's arm. "Rain?" she started shakily. "I think it's that." She swallowed and pointed a trembling finger towards the bathroom entrance.

Rain stepped out behind her and froze.

It was a horrible sight. Twelve feet tall, its skin was a dull, granite gray, its great lumpy body like a boulder with its small bald head perched on top like a coconut. It had short legs thick as tree trunks with flat, horny feet. The smell coming from it was incredible. It was holding a huge wooden club, which dragged along the floor because its arms were so long.

Simultaneously, the girls' mouths dropped open and they released high, petrified screams. They stumbled backwards as far as they could, cowering against the back wall. The troll advanced on them, knocking the sinks off the walls as it went.

Ron crashed through the door behind the troll.

"Oy, pea-brain!" he yelled, and he threw a metal pipe at it.

The troll stopped a few feet from the girls. It lumbered around, blinking stupidly, to see what had made the noise. Its mean little eyes saw Ron. It hesitated, then made for him instead, lifting its club as it went.

"Come on, run, run!" Rain yelled at Hermione, trying to pull her toward the door, but Hermione couldn't move, she was still flat against the wall, her mouth open with terror.

The shouting and the echoes seemed to be driving the troll berserk. It roared again and started toward Ron, who was nearest and had no way to escape.

Rain then did something that was both very brave and very stupid: She took a great running jump and managed to fasten her arms around the troll's neck from behind.

At Privet Drive, Dudley and his gang thoroughly enjoyed tormenting Rain. She quickly learned where the soft, vulnerable parts to hit were. She had never choked anyone -- not a good idea when there are other people around to pull you off, instead Rain used the distraction to start running again -- but there’s a first time for everything.

Rain put all her strength in her arms, tightening them as much as she could and cutting off his air supply.

The creature flailed, swinging around and Rain clung onto him for dear life, but his movements got slower and he began to stumble. He swayed on the spot and then fell flat on its face, with a thud that made the whole room tremble.

Rain got to her feet. She was shaking and out of breath.

Ron and Hermione stared at her.

“What the  _ bloody  _ hell was that?!” he yelled.

Hermione squeaked.

“Um...self-defense?” Rain said, not sounding convincing, even to herself.

“Is it -- is it dead?” Hermione asked softly.

“No way,” Rain said. “I’m not  _ that _ strong.”

She held out her hands to help Hermione to her feet.

“Remind me not to get on  _ your _ bad side,” Ron said.

A sudden slamming and loud footsteps made the three of them look up. They hadn't realized what a racket they had been making, but of course, someone downstairs must have heard the crashes and the troll's roars. A moment later, Professor McGonagall had come bursting into the room, closely followed by Snape, with Quirrell bringing up the rear. Quirrell took one look at the troll, let out a faint whimper, and sat quickly down on a toilet, clutching his heart.

Snape bent over the troll. Professor McGonagall was looking at them. Rain had never seen her look so angry. Her lips were white.

“What on earth were you thinking of?” she said, with cold fury in her voice. “You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitory?"

Snape gave Rain a swift, piercing look. Rain looked at the floor.

"They didn't know about the troll," Ron explained. "No one remembered them; I wanted to warn them.”

"But the troll was already here," Rain continued.

"Rain and I would be dead if Ron hadn't come," Hermione completed. “Rain...strangled?”

Rain shrugged.

“She strangled it. We didn't have time to come and fetch anyone. It was about to finish us off when he arrived."

“You -- you  _ strangled _ the troll?” McGonagall inquired, her voice high with disbelief.

Rain pressed her lips together awkwardly. “Yep.”

"And why, pray tell, were you not at the feast?" Snape drawled.

Rain looked him in the eye unblinkingly. “I would think  _ you _ would understand, Professor.”

“And what is that, Potter?” he asked snidely.

Rain raised a brow. "You may celebrate, but I have no reason to celebrate the anniversary of the day my parents left this world."

She was pleased to see him flinch.

Professor McGonagall's lips turned down. "Very well, Miss Potter. Now run along, all of you. Back to the dorms."

As they exited, Professor McGonagall called after them. "I still say you were lucky, but not many first years could have taken on a full-grown mountain troll. You each win Gryffindor five points. Professor Dumbledore will be informed of this. You may go."

They hurried out of the chamber and didn't speak at all until they had climbed two floors up. It was a relief to be away from the smell of the troll, quite apart from anything else.

"We should have gotten more than fifteen points," Ron grumbled.

"We just fought off a troll," Rain said incredulously. "Be glad we're not  _ dead _ ."

"True," Ron relented. "By the way, Hermione, um, sorry. About earlier."

"Yet you still came to save me," Hermione sniffed.

Ron shrugged. "Well, what are friends for."

Rain looped her arms around each of their shoulders as they all smiled.

There are some things you can't share without ending up liking each other, and knocking out a twelve-foot mountain troll is one of them.


	8. The Quidditch Match

<Rain Potter>

It was really lucky that Rain and Hermione started talking again. She didn't know how she'd have gotten through all her homework without the girl, what with all the last-minute quidditch practice Wood was making them do for the first match of the season: Gryffindor versus Slytherin. Hermione had also lent her  Quidditch Through the Ages , which turned out to be a very interesting read.

Hardly anyone had seen Rain play because Wood had decided that, as their secret weapon, Rain should be kept, well, secret. But the news that she was playing Seeker had leaked out somehow, and Rain didn't know which was worse -- people telling her she'd be brilliant or people telling her they'd be running around underneath her holding a mattress.

Rain learned that there were seven hundred ways of committing a quidditch foul and that all of them had happened during a World Cup match in 1473; that Seekers were usually the smallest and fastest players, and that most serious quidditch accidents seemed to happen to them; that although people rarely died playing quidditch, referees had been known to vanish and turn up months later in the Sahara Desert.

The evening before the match found Rain, Ron and Hermione by one of the windows in the noisy common room. Hermione was checking Rain and Ron's Charms homework for them. She would never let them copy ("How will you learn?"), but by asking her to read it through, they got the right answers anyway.

Rain was tapping her fingers along her chair’s arm, doing nothing to dispel her nervous energy.

“Hi Rain,” George (or Fred? She really needed to figure this out) said, sweeping away her hand and sitting on the chair’s arm.

“Ready for tomorrow?” Fred asked, taking a seat on the other arm.

Rain looked up at them. “Not really,” she admitted.

“Nonsense,” George dismissed. “You’ll do fine. Don’t you think, Fred?”

Fred ruffled her hair. “Right you are, George. You’ll be great. We’ve seen you practice.”

“Sleep tight,” the twins called as they headed up the stairs.

***

The next morning dawned very bright and cold. The Great Hall was full of the delicious smell of fried sausages and the cheerful chatter of everyone looking forward to a good quidditch match.

"You've got to eat some breakfast." Ron said.

"I don't want anything."

"Just a bit of toast," Hermione wheedled.

"I'm not hungry."

Rain felt terrible. In an hour's time she'd be walking onto the field.

“Rain, you need your strength,” Seamus said. “Seekers are always the ones who get clobbered by the other team.”

“Thanks, Seamus, that makes me feel  _ so _ much better,” Rain muttered, watching Seamus pile ketchup on his sausages.

By eleven o'clock the whole school seemed to be out in the stands around the quidditch pitch, and Rain was freaking out.

Rain enlisted the help of Alicia to thread her massive curls into a long, french braid so she could actually see while on her broom because A) she didn’t know how to do it herself, and B) even if she did, her hands were shaking too much to be of any use.

Wood cleared his throat for silence. “Okay, men.”

“And women,” Angelina interrupted.

“And women,” Wood agreed. “This is it.”

“The big one,” Fred (Rain’s pretty sure it was Fred) said.

“The one we’ve all been waiting for,” George said.

“We know Oliver’s speech by heart,” Fred told Rain, making her, "we were on the team last year."

"Shut up, you two," Wood said. "This is the best team Gryffindor's had in years. We're going to win. I know it."

He glared at them all as if to say, ‘Or else.’

"Right. It's time. Good luck, all of you."

Rain followed Fred and George out of the locker room and, taking a deep breath, walked onto the field to loud cheers.

Madam Hooch was refereeing. She stood in the middle of the field waiting for the two teams, her broom in her hand.

"Now, I want a nice fair game, all of you," she said, once they were all gathered around her. Rain noticed that she seemed to be speaking particularly to the Slytherin Captain, Marcus Flint, a fifth year. Rain thought Flint looked as if he had some troll blood in him. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a fluttering banner high above, flashing "Potter for President" over the crowd. Her heart skipped and she smiled. She felt braver.

"Mount your brooms, please."

Rain swung her leg over her Nimbus 2000.

Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle.

Fifteen brooms rose up, high, high into the air. They were off.

"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor -- what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too --"

"JORDAN!"

"Sorry, Professor."

The Weasley twins' friend, Lee Jordan, was doing the commentary for the match, closely watched by Professor McGonagall.

"And she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood's, last year only a reserve -- back to Johnson and -- no, the Slytherins have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes -- Flint flying like an eagle up there -- he's going to sc -- no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and the Gryffindors take the Quaffle -- that's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and -- OUCH -- that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger -- Quaffle taken by the Slytherins -- that's Adrian Pucey speeding off toward the goal posts, but he's blocked by a second Bludger -- sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell which -- nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes -- she's really flying -- dodges a speeding Bludger -- the goal posts are ahead -- come on, now, Angelina -- Keeper Bletchley dives -- misses -- GRYFFINDOR SCORES!"

Gryffindor cheers filled the cold air, with howls and moans from the Slytherins.

Rain grinned. Now  _ this _ was a sport. She kept one ear on Lee’s commentary, the other on her teammates, and her eyes open for any sign of the Snitch. She stayed above the rest of the game, as was her and Wood’s game plan.

_ "Keep out of the way until you catch sight of the Snitch," Wood had said. "We don't want you attacked before you have to be." _

When Angelina had scored, Rain had done a couple of loop-the-loops to let off her excited energy and refocus. She was back to staring around for the Snitch. Once she caught sight of a flash of gold, but it was just a reflection from one of the Weasleys' wristwatches, and once a Bludger decided to come pelting her way, more like a cannonball than anything, but Rain dodged it and Fred came chasing after it.

"Alright there, Rain?" he had time to yell, as he beat the Bludger furiously toward Marcus Flint.

"Slytherin in possession," Lee Jordan was saying, "Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the -- wait a moment -- was that the Snitch?"

A murmur ran through the crowd as Adrian Pucey dropped the Quaffle, too busy looking over his shoulder at the flash of gold that had passed his left ear.

Rain saw it. In a great rush of excitement she dove downward after the streak of gold. Slytherin Seeker Terence Higgs had seen it, too. Neck and neck they hurtled toward the Snitch -- all the Chasers seemed to have forgotten what they were supposed to be doing as they hung in midair to watch.

But Rain was lighter, and therefore faster, than Higgs.

She could see the little round ball, wings fluttering, darting up ahead and tucked herself closer to her broom, gaining just a little bit more speed.

WHAM!

Marcus Flint cut directly in front of Rain, giving her no time to react. Rain’s broom hit him and Rain nearly went soaring over him into thin air.

A roar of outrage echoed from the Gryffindors below. “Foul!”

Madam Hooch spoke angrily to Flint and then ordered a free shot at the goal posts for Gryffindor. But in all the confusion, of course, the Golden Snitch had disappeared from sight again.

Lee Jordan was finding it difficult not to take sides. "So -- after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating --"

"Jordan!" Professor McGonagall growled.

"I mean, after that open and revolting foul..."

"Jordan, I'm warning you --"

"All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinnet, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue play, Gryffindor still in possession."

It was as Rain dodged another Bludger, which went spinning dangerously past her head, that it happened. Her broom gave a sudden, frightening lurch. For a split second, she thought she was going to fall. Her smile slipped from her face. She gripped the broom tightly with both her hands and knees. She'd never felt anything like that.

It happened again. It was as though the broom was trying to buck her off. But Nimbus 2000s did not suddenly decide to buck their riders off. She tried to get to the ground, but then she realized her broom was completely out of her control. She couldn’t turn it. She couldn’t direct it at all. It zigzagged through the air, every now and then making violent swishing movements that almost unseated her.

"Slytherin in possession -- Flint with the Quaffle -- passes Spinnet -- passes Bell -- hit hard in the face by a Bludger, hope it broke his nose -- only joking, Professor -- Slytherins score -- A no..."

Rain’s broom lifted her slowly higher, away from the game, jerking and twitching as it went. Her broom rolled over and over, and just barely managed to hang on. It gave a wild jerk and Rain swung off it. She was now dangling from it, holding on with only one hand.

Clearly, people had now noticed her crazy broom was trying to kill her.

Fred and George flew up to try and pull Rain safely onto one of their brooms, but it was no good -- every time they got near her, the broom would jump higher still. They dropped lower and circled beneath her, obviously hoping to catch her if she fell.

Marcus Flint seized the Quaffle and scored five times without anyone noticing.

Suddenly, her broom was controllable. Rain’s brow furrowed, but decided to not look a gift horse in the mouth. She reached up with her free hand and grabbed the tip of the broom, shifting it vertically, and she drifted down, looking much like Mary Poppins.

She was still a good ten meters from the ground, when she saw the Snitch flying towards her skimming the top of the grass. Her mind whirled as she quickly made a plan.

“Fred, get lower!” she instructed.

Rain closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and let go.

She ignored the horrified gasps of the crowd, as she fell a few meters and grabbed onto George’s broom. The broom tipped with the sudden unexpected addition of her weight, and Rain used the momentum to swing over to Fred’s broom which was much closer to the ground. She pulled her legs up and wrapped them around the broom. They quickly lowered in altitude. Rain let go of the broom with her hands, swinging side-to-side by her legs. Rain stretched her arms out as far as they could go.

The Snitch was hurtling towards her, but it suddenly jumped upwards. Rain jerked in surprise and the broom followed, it and Fred collapsing onto her. They crashed onto the ground and rolled, Rain landing on top of Fred, straddling his hips.

“Alright, Rain?” Fred asked.

Rain covered her mouth with her hand. When she pulled it back, she was grinning.

"I'm great." She showed him what was in her hand. The sun gleamed off the gold side of the Snitch.

“I don’t believe it!” Fred said, looking at the ball in wonder. He laughed, standing, and then helped Rain to her feet.

"I've got the Snitch!" she shouted, waving it above her head, and the game ended in complete confusion.

<Hermione Granger>

It was chilly in the stands of the quidditch pitch, but that didn’t stop the entire school from coming to see the match.

Ron and Hermione joined Lavender, Parvati, Neville, Seamus, and Dean, the West Ham fan, up in the top row. As a surprise for Rain, they had painted a large banner on one of the sheets Scabbers had ruined. It said "Potter for President", and Dean, who was good at drawing, had done a large Gryffindor lion underneath. Then Hermione had performed a tricky little charm so that the paint flashed different colors.

Madam Hooch’s whistle announced the start of the game.

"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor -- what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too --"

"JORDAN!"

"Sorry, Professor."

"And she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood's, last year only a reserve -- back to Johnson and -- no, the Slytherins have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes -- Flint flying like an eagle up there -- he's going to sc -- no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and the Gryffindors take the Quaffle -- that's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and -- OUCH -- that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger -- Quaffle taken by the Slytherins -- that's Adrian Pucey speeding off toward the goal posts, but he's blocked by a second Bludger -- sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell which -- nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes -- she's really flying -- dodges a speeding Bludger -- the goal posts are ahead -- come on, now, Angelina -- Keeper Bletchley dives -- misses -- GRYFFINDOR SCORES!"

Their side of the stadium erupted into cheers.

"Budge up there, move along."

"Hagrid!" Ron greeted.

“Hello, Hagrid,” Hermione greeted.

Ron and Hermione squeezed together to give Hagrid enough space to join them.

"Bin watchin' from me hut," Hagrid said, patting a large pair of binoculars around his neck, "but it isn't the same as bein' in the crowd. No sign of the Snitch yet, eh?"

“Nope,” Ron said. “Rain hasn’t had much to do yet.”

"Kept outta trouble, though, that's somethin'," Hagrid said, raising his binoculars and peering skyward at the speck that was Rain.

"Slytherin in possession," Lee Jordan was saying, "Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the -- wait a moment -- was that the Snitch?"

Rain and the Slytherin Seeker raced towards something Hermione couldn’t see. She doubted many people could. All Hermione knew was that the person wearing red and gold -- she couldn’t even tell it was Rain from this distance -- was pulling ahead. Or at least she was, until another Slytherin player cut her off and almost knocked her to the ground.

“Foul!” Ron yelled in her ear, along with most of the Gryffindor House.

“Send him off, red! Red card!” Dean yelled.

“What are you talking about, Dean?” Ron asked.

“Red card!" said Dean furiously. "In football you get shown the red card and you're out of the game!"

"But this isn't football, Dean," Ron reminded him.

“They oughta change the rules.” Hagrid agreed with Dean. “Flint coulda knocked Rain outa the air.”

"So -- after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating --"

"Jordan!"

"I mean, after that open and revolting foul..."

"Jordan, I'm warning you --"

"All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinnet, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue play, Gryffindor still in possession. Slytherin in possession -- Flint with the Quaffle -- passes Spinnet -- passes Bell -- hit hard in the face by a Bludger, hope it broke his nose -- only joking, Professor -- Slytherins score -- A no..."

"Dunno what Rain thinks she's doing," Hagrid mumbled, drawing Hermione’s attention to Rain, floating high above the rest of the players. He stared through his binoculars. "If I didn' know better, I'd say she'd lost control of her broom, but she can't have..."

People began pointing up at Rain all over the stands. Her broom rolled over and over, and just barely managed to hang on. It gave a wild jerk and Rain swung off it. She was now dangling from it, holding on with only one hand.

"Did something happen to it when Flint blocked her?" Seamus whispered.

"Can't have," Hagrid said, his voice shaking. "Can't nothing interfere with a broomstick except powerful Dark magic -- no kid could do that to a Nimbus 2000."

Hermione seized Hagrid’s binoculars, but instead of looking up at Rain, she started looking frantically at the crowd.

"What are you doing?" Ron moaned, gray-faced.

"I knew it," Hermione gasped, "Snape -- look."

Ron grabbed the binoculars. Snape was in the middle of the stands opposite them. He had his eyes fixed on Rain and was muttering nonstop under his breath.

"He's doing something -- jinxing the broom," Hermione said.

"What should we do?"

"Leave it to me."

Before Ron could say another word, Hermione disappeared.

Fred and George flew up to try and pull Rain safely onto one of their brooms, but it was no good -- every time they got near her, the broom would jump higher still. They dropped lower and circled beneath her, obviously hoping to catch her if she fell.

"Come on, Hermione," Ron muttered desperately.

She fought her way across to the stand where Snape stood, and raced along the row behind him; she didn't even stop to say sorry as she knocked Professor Quirrell headfirst into the row in front. Reaching Snape, she crouched down, pulled out her wand, and whispered a few, well-chosen words. Bright blue flames shot from her wand onto the hem of Snape's robes.

It took perhaps thirty seconds for Snape to realize that he was on fire. A sudden yelp told her she had done her job. Scooping the fire off him into a little jar in her pocket, she scrambled back along the row -- Snape would never know what had happened.

It was enough. Up in the air, Rain reached up with her free hand and grabbed the tip of the broom, shifting it vertically, and she drifted down, looking much like Mary Poppins.

It looked like she would make it, but Rain was still a good ten meters in the air when she let go.

Hermione muffled her scream behind her hand.

Rain caught ahold of one of the twin’s brooms, but it tipped and Rain dropped again. She grabbed onto the other twin’s broom. She hooked her legs over the broomhandle, but then let go with her hands, much to Hermione’s confusion.

The two crashed to the ground, end over end, landing in the grass with Rain on top of the twin.

They stood up and Rain waved a hand over her head. “I've got the Snitch!"

Um...what?


	9. The Mischief

<Fred and George Weasley>

Angelina, Alicia, and Katie pulled Rain away from Fred and into a tight hug, squealing in excitement.

George dismounted, raising a brow at his twin quizzically.

“What?”

“Rain?” George questioned.

“What about her?”

“Any interest?” George inquired.

“No. Why would there be?”

“She was sitting on you.”

Fred paused. That;s right. When they landed on the ground after Rain’s ridiculous stunt that ended in her catching the Snitch in her mouth, Rain was sitting on his lap, her legs on either side of his hips.

“She’s a Firstie, George,” he reminded his twin.

“Yeah, but she won’t be a Firstie forever,” George said, but let the subject drop as the girls pulled him, Fred, and Wood into the hug and the Gryffindors swarmed the field.

“Let’s celebrate!” Fred yelled, much to the excitement of their Housemates.

Fred and George marched Rain into the common room on their shoulders and were the recipient of much applause.

Much of the attention fell on Rain that evening, but she seemed content to sit at the fire in a huddle with the rest of the team and her fellow first years,

“Great game, Rain,” Lee congratulated.

“Thanks,” she smiled up at him from her seat on the floor. “I liked your commentary.”

“Aw, you’re making me blush,” Lee fanned his face and took a seat.

“So,” Rain said slyly. “Mr. Mischief Makers, where’s all the mischief?”

“Huh?”

“With a pair of mischief makers in the school, I expect a certain degree of mischief to occur,” Rain said.

“Are you doubting us?” Fred questioned.

“Yes,” Rain smirked and the twins gasped and braced their hands over their hearts in mock pain. “So where is it?”

“Hold up,” Angelina said. “You  _ want  _ them to cause mischief?”

“Of course,” Rain said.

“Why?” Ron moaned.

Rain grinned. “What’s life without a little fun and laughter?”

“Thanks, now they’re going to be unbearable,” Lee groaned.

The twins exchanged delighted looks.

“You want mischief? We’ll give you mischief,” Fred promised.

<Rain Potter>

“Okay, what the ___ happened to my broom?”

“It was Snape,” Ron said. “Hermione and I saw him. He was cursing your broomstick, muttering, he wouldn't take his eyes off you."

“Rubbish,” Hagrid said, pouring them tea. “Why would Snape do somethin' like that?"

“He hates me Hagrid,” Rain said. “I don’t know why, but he does.”

It was true. Potions lessons continued in the dismal manner of the first class, that first question he asked her being their only civil interaction and even that was spiteful.

“You know, I saw him on Halloween,” Ron recalled. “I was a bit busy trying to find you two, but he was on the third floor. You think he was trying to get past that three-headed dog?” he joked.

Hagrid dropped the teapot. “How do you know about Fluffy?”

“Fluffy?” the trio chorused.

“Yeah -- he's mine -- bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las' year -- I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the --"

“Yes?” Ron asked eagerly.

“Now, don’t ask me anymore,” Hargid said gruffly. “That’s top secret, that is.”

“But Snape could be trying to steal it,” Hermione protested.

"Rubbish," Hagrid said again. "Snape's a Hogwarts teacher, he'd do nothin' of the sort."

“So why did he just try to kill me?” Rain asked. “And we’re sure he was trying to kill me, right? He  _ is _ a teacher.”

“I know a jinx when I see one, I've read all about them! You've got to keep eye contact, and Snape wasn't blinking at all, I saw him!" Hermione explained vehemently.

"I'm tellin' yeh, yer wrong!" Hagrid said hotly. "I don' know why Rain's broom acted like that, but Snape wouldn' try an' kill a student! Like Rain said. Now, listen to me, all three of yeh -- yer meddlin' in things that don' concern yeh. It's dangerous. You forget that dog, an' you forget what it's guardin', that's between Professor Dumbledore an' Nicolas Flamel --"

"Aha!" Hermione said, "so there's someone called Nicolas Flamel involved, is there?"

Hagrid looked furious with himself.

***

That night, Rain couldn’t focus on the book in her hand. Between Snape, her near death experience, Fluffy, and whatever the Fluffy’s guarding, there was way too much on her mind.

She sighed and rolled out of bed.

_ “Where are you going, Amiga?” _ Amity hissed, waking from Rain’s movements.

_ “Out. I don’t know. Just out. I need to walk out my thoughts. Do you want to come?” _

_ “Into the cold? No way. I’ll be here when you get back, Amiga.” _

The corridors  _ were _ cold, Rain realized, setting off with no particular destination in mind. She kept track of where she went and where the familiar landmarks were, beginning a map in her mind of how to get around.

“What the…?” Rain questioned when she stepped in water in the second-floor corridor. She followed the puddle into the girl’s bathroom.

One toilet was overflowing, splashing water around, and there was sobbing coming from it.

Rain cautiously poked her head around the door. “Hello?”

The sobbing stopped.

“Hello?” an echoey female voice returned. A ghostly head popped out of the toilet bowl.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Moaning Myrtle,” she sniffed. “And you’re Rain Potter, right?”

Rain nodded. “Are you alright?”

“No,” Myrtle pouted. “Leah was making fun of me.”

“Who’s Leah?”

“She’s a prefect. Seventh Year Slytherin. She said I was nothing but a waste of space. I tried to kill myself, but then I remembered I’m already dead.”

“Myrtle, you’re not a waste of space. How long have you been at Hogwarts?”

“50 years.”

“You’ve been a part of the school for 50 years. You  _ are _ a part of the school. It wouldn’t be the same without you.” Rain said. “Tell you what, if you ever need to cry on someone’s shoulder, find me.”

“That might be a lot,” Myrtle said, rubbing at her eyes.

“That’s okay,” Rain said.

Myrtle smiled and threw her arms around Rain’s neck, making her shiver. “Thanks Rain.”

<Fred and George Weasley>

George followed Fred, directing him back to the common room using the Marauders Map.

“Wait,” he ordered, pausing them at the final corner. He squinted at the map. “Is that…”

“Who?” Fred whispered.

“It’s Rain,” George said, astonished. “Just around the corner.”

He looked at his twin. “But I can’t hear her.”

They rounded the corner, hidden in shadows.

“Well, well, well,” Fred said, smirking when she jumped. “What do we have here?”

“Is it an Ickle Firstie out of bed?” George questioned.

“And a couple of mischief makers, I see,” Rain said.

“We had to prove you wrong,” George said. “You asked for mischief.”

“We’ll expect an apology tomorrow,” Fred added.

“Now what is a first year doing out of bed?” George asked.

“Merely exploring,” Rain said. “For now.”

She threw a smirk over her shoulder at the twins, leading the way through the portrait of the Fat Lady.

“Hey, wait a minute,” Fred called, he and his twin hurrying to catch up with her. “How were you so quiet? We couldn’t even hear footsteps.”

Rain shrugged. “Practice makes perfect, I guess.”

“Done a lot of sneaking, have you?” George inquired.

“At the Dursleys,” Rain confirmed sourly.

“Good luck with tomorrow,” she said, ascending the stairs to the girls dorms.

***

That morning, chaos filled the halls of Hogwarts.

The twins had exceeded all expectations.

As each student -- and teacher -- entered the Great Hall for breakfast, their speech became a mangled mess and they babbled unconnected phrases that made absolutely no sense.

It was so bad that classes had to be cancelled for the day, because the teachers were unable to teach.

And the twins found a note tucked into their books:

_ Mischief Makers, _   
_ I’m sorry for doubting you. _ _   
_ _ Rain _

<Rain Potter>

Christmas was coming. One morning in mid-December, Hogwarts woke to find itself covered in several feet of snow. The lake froze solid and the Weasley twins were punished for bewitching several snowballs so that they followed Quirrell around, bouncing off the back of his turban. The few owls that managed to battle their way through the stormy sky to deliver mail had to be nursed back to health by Hagrid before they could fly off again.

Amity spent most of her time burrowed under Rain's bedcovers or lounging in the little amount of sunlight that streamed through the window in an attempt to warm up. Cold-blooded animals weren't made for this kind of weather.

No one could wait for the holidays to start. While the Gryffindor common room and the Great Hall had roaring fires, the drafty corridors had become icy and a bitter wind rattled the windows in the classrooms. Worst of all were Professor Snape's classes down in the dungeons, where their breath rose in a mist before them and they kept as close as possible to their hot cauldrons.

There was no way in hell Rain was going back to Privet Drive for Christmas. Professor McGonagall had come around the week before, making a list of students who would be staying for the holidays, and Rain had signed up at once. She didn't feel sorry for herself at all; this would probably be the best Christmas she'd ever had. Ron and his brothers were staying, too, because Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were going to Romania to visit Charlie. Rain would miss Hermione, however, who returned to visit her parents.

Rain and Ron each had a dormitory to themselves and the common room was far emptier than usual, so they were able to get the good armchairs by the fire, meaning Rain could bring Amity downstairs; once again wearing her like a scarf. They sat by the hour eating anything they could spear on a toasting fork -- bread, English muffins, marshmallows -- Ron was plotting ways to get Malfoy expelled, which was fun to talk about even if they wouldn't work.

Ron also started teaching Rain wizard chess. This was exactly like Muggle chess except that the figures were alive, which made it a lot like directing troops in battle. Ron's set was very old and battered. Like everything else he owned, it had once belonged to someone else in his family -- in this case, his grandfather. However, old chessmen weren't a drawback at all. Ron knew them so well he never had trouble getting them to do what he wanted.

Rain played with chessmen Seamus had lent her, and they didn't trust her at all. She wasn't a very good player yet and they kept shouting different bits of advice at her, which was confusing. "Don't send me there, can't you see his knight? Send him, we can afford to lose him."

On Christmas Eve, Rain went to bed looking forward to the next day for the food and the fun, but not expecting any presents at all. When she woke early in the morning and lumbered down to the common room, she did enjoy seeing the piles of presents under the tree. She glanced at the name tags and was surprised to find some with her name on them. She pulled them over to the couch by the fire so Amity, who was still wrapped around her neck, could warm up for the day.

"Merry Christmas," Ron said sleepily as he scrambled down the stairs in his bathrobe.

"You, too," Rain said. "Will you look at this? I've got some presents!"

"What did you expect, turnips?" Ron said, turning to his own pile, which was a lot bigger than Rain's, not that she minded.

Rain picked up the top parcel. It was wrapped in thick brown paper and scrawled across it was _To_ _Rain,_ _from_ _Hagrid_. Inside was a roughly cut wooden flute. Hagrid had obviously whittled it himself. Rain blew it -- it sounded a bit like an owl.

A second, very small parcel contained a note.

_We_ _received_ _your_ _message_ _and_ _enclosed_ _your_ _Christmas_ _present_. _From_ _Uncle_ _Vernon_ _and_ _Aunt_ _Petunia_. Taped to the note was a fifty-pence piece.

“That’s friendly,” Rain muttered.

Ron was fascinated by the fifty pence. "Weird! What a shape! This is money?"

"You can keep it," Rain said, laughing at how pleased Ron was. "Hagrid and my aunt and uncle -- so who sent these?"

"I think I know who that one's from," Ron said, turning a bit pink and pointing to a very lumpy parcel. "My Mum. I told her you didn't expect any presents and -- oh, no," he groaned, "she's made you a Weasley sweater."

Rain tore open the parcel to find a thick, hand-knitted sweater in emerald green and a large box of homemade fudge. Tears gathered in her eyes as she fingered the material. A Weasley sweater. A family item. She pulled on the sweater and smoothed out the material. She'd never had a family before.

"Every year she makes us a sweater," Ron said, unwrapping his own, "and mine's always maroon."

“That’s really nice of her,” Rain said, trying the fudge, which was very tasty.

Before she could say or think anything else, Fred and George bounded down the stairs.

"Merry Christmas!"

"Hey, look -- Rain's got a Weasley sweater, too!"

Fred and George were wearing blue sweaters, one with a large yellow F on it, the other a G. They took a seat on either side of her.

"Rain's is better than ours, though," Fred said, pulling at the material on Rain's shoulder. "She obviously makes more of an effort if you're not family."

"Why aren't you wearing yours, Ron?" George demanded. "Come on, get it on, they're lovely and warm."

"I hate maroon," Ron moaned halfheartedly as he pulled it over his head.

"You haven't got a letter on yours," George observed. "I suppose she thinks you don't forget your name. But we're not stupid -- we know we're called Gred and Forge."

Rain smiled at the twins. "Do you purposefully switch up your names?"

"But of course." Fred answered with a smirk.

"We can't make it easy for you." George said with an identical smirk.

Rain smirked back at them. "I take that as a challenge."

Fred and George looked at each other over Rain's head. "We'll see about that."

Rain's next present also contained candy -- a large box of Chocolate Frogs from Hermione.

This only left one parcel. Rain picked it up and felt it. It was very light. She unwrapped it.

Something fluid and silvery gray went slithering to the floor where it lay in gleaming folds. Ron gasped.

"I've heard of those," he said in a hushed voice, dropping the box of Every Flavor Beans he'd gotten from Hermione. "If that's what I think it is -- they're really rare, and really valuable."

"What is it?" Rain picked the shining, silvery cloth off the floor. It was strange to the touch, like water woven into material.

"It's an invisibility cloak," Ron said, a look of awe on his face. "I'm sure it is -- try it on."

Rain threw the cloak around her shoulders and Ron gave a yell. "It is! Look down!"

Rain looked down at her feet, but they were gone. Just her head was visible, suspended in midair, her body completely hidden.

The twins looked at each other again. "Wicked."

"Can we borrow that sometime?" Fred asked.

"There's a note!" Ron said suddenly. "A note fell out of it!"

Rain pulled off the cloak and seized the letter. Written in narrow, loopy writing she had never seen before were the following words:

_Your_ _father_ _left_ _this_ _in_ _my_ _possession_ _before_ _he_ _died_.  
 _It_ _is_ _time_ _it_ _was_ _returned_ _to_ _you_.  
 _Use_ _it_ _well_.  
 _A_ _Very_ _Merry_ _Christmas_ _to_ _you_.

There was no signature. Rain stared at the note. Ron was admiring the cloak and the twins were watching Rain.

"I'd give anything for one of these," Ron said. "Anything. What's the matter?"

“Nothing,” Rain said. She felt very strange. Who had sent the cloak? Had it really once belonged to her father?


	10. The Mirror of Erised

<Rain Potter>

"What's all this noise?"

"’P’ for ‘Prefect’! Get it on, Percy, come on, we're all wearing ours, even Rain got one," Fred said, seizing Percy’s sweater from him.

"I -- don't -- want --" Percy said thickly, as the twins forced the sweater over his head, knocking his glasses askew.

"And you're not sitting with the prefects today, either," George said. "Christmas is a time for family.”

They frog-marched Percy from the room, his arms pinned to his side by his sweater.

Rain had never in all her life had such a Christmas dinner. A hundred fat, roast turkeys; mountains of roast and boiled potatoes; platters of chipolatas; tureens of buttered peas, silver boats of thick, rich gravy and cranberry sauce -- and stacks of wizard crackers every few feet along the table. These fantastic party favors were nothing like the feeble Muggle ones the Dursleys usually bought, with their little plastic toys and their flimsy paper hats inside. Rain pulled a wizard cracker with Fred, giggling, and it didn't just bang, it went off with a blast like a cannon and engulfed them all in a cloud of blue smoke, while from the inside exploded an admiral's hat and several live, white mice, making Rain shriek, but Fred laughed and held her down to keep her from jumping about. Up at the High Table, Dumbledore had swapped his pointed wizard's hat for a flowered bonnet, and was chuckling merrily at a joke Professor Flitwick had just read him.

Flaming Christmas puddings followed the turkey. Percy nearly broke his teeth on a silver sickle embedded in his slice. Rain watched Hagrid getting redder and redder in the face as he called for more wine, finally kissing Professor McGonagall on the cheek, who, to Rain's amazement, giggled and blushed, her top hat lopsided.

When Rain finally left the table, she was laden down with a stack of things out of the crackers, including a pack of non-explodable, luminous balloons, a Grow-Your-Own-Warts kit, and her own new wizard chess set. The white mice had disappeared and Rain had a nasty feeling they were going to end up as Mrs. Norris's Christmas dinner. Or better yet, Amity's.

Fred and George pulled Rain and Ron into the snow for a snowball fight.

“I’ve never had a snowball fight,” Rain admitted.

“What?” Ron shouted in disbelief. “But it’s so much fun!”

The twins threw their arms around her shoulders. “Then we’ll teach you.”

It took a few tries, but Rain managed to make her first snowball, which she smashed in Geroge’s face with pride, beginning their free-for-all fight.

George blinked in shock, before tossing snow her way. Except she dodged and Fred got a faceful of snow instead.

“Oi!” he exclaimed. “Traitor!”

Fred jumped on his twin, intent on burying him in the snow, at least, until Rain’s laughter drew their attention.

She froze mid-laughter, catching sight of the four eyes on her. “Uh oh.”

Rain bolted through the snow under heavy fire and dove behind a tree for cover.

The twins were too preoccupied to notice Ron building two snowballs and launching them at the back of their heads.

Their fun only came to an end after Rain jumped on Ron and shoved a handful of snow down his back.

“Bloody hell, woman!” he screeched.

Cold, wet, and gasping for breath, they returned to the fire in the Gryffindor common room, where Rain broke in her new chess set by losing spectacularly to Ron. She suspected she wouldn't have lost so badly if Percy hadn't tried to help her so much, but she appreciated the effort.

After a meal of turkey sandwiches, crumpets, trifle, and Christmas cake, the Weasleys and Rain retreated to the common room. Rain and Ron lounged by the fire, watching Percy chase Fred and George all over Gryffindor tower because they'd stolen his prefect badge.

Rain winked at Ron and pulled the badge from her pocket for only a moment so he could identify it before stowing it away.

Ron erupted in boisterous laughter.

The twins had subtly passed it to her before Percy had even noticed it gone.

This was Rain’s best Christmas day ever.

***

The moon was high in the sky, but Rain was wide-awake. Too full of energy to even read herself to sleep as usual.

Rain leaned over the side of her bed and pulled the invisibility cloak out from under it.

Her father's...this had been her father's. She let the material flow over her hands, smoother than silk, light as air.

_ Use it well. _

The whole of Hogwarts was open to her in this cloak. Excitement flooded through her as she stood there in the dark and silence. She could go anywhere in this, anywhere, and Filch would never know.

She crept out of the dormitory, down the stairs, across the common room, and climbed through the portrait hole.

"Who's there?" squawked the Fat Lady.

Rain said nothing. She walked quickly down the corridor.

Where should she go? She stopped, her heart racing, and thought. And then it came to her. The Restricted Section in the library. She'd be able to read as long as she liked, as long as it took to find out who Flamel was. She set off, drawing the invisibility cloak tight around her as she walked.

She, Ron, and Hermione had been searching the library for books with Flamel’s name ever since Hagrid let it slip, but the trouble was, it was very hard to know where to begin, not knowing what Flamel might have done to get himself into a book. He wasn't in  Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century , or  Notable Magical Names of Our Time ; he was missing, too, from  Important Modern Magical Discoveries , and  A Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry .

And then, of course, there was the sheer size of the library; tens of thousands of books; thousands of shelves; hundreds of narrow rows, which Rain usually adored; she had an incredible number of books on thousands of topics that she could borrow and read before bed or early in the morning thanks to her sleep schedule.

Unfortunately, they weren’t allowed to search the Restricted Section, because hello! It’s restricted! That’s where the books containing powerful Dark Magic never taught at Hogwarts were housed. They were only read by older students studying advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts.

The library was pitch-black and very eerie. Rain lit a lamp to see her way along the rows of books. The lamp looked as if it was floating along in midair, and even though Rain could feel her arm supporting it, the sight gave her the creeps.

The Restricted Section was right at the back of the library. Stepping carefully over the rope that separated these books from the rest of the library, she held up her lamp to read the titles.

They didn't tell her much. Their peeling, faded gold letters spelled words in languages Rain couldn't understand. Some had no title at all. One book had a dark stain on it that looked horribly like blood. The hairs on the back of Rain's neck prickled. Maybe she was imagining it, maybe not, but she thought a faint whispering was coming from the books, as though they knew someone was there who shouldn't be.

Rain backed away from the shelves. It was a good thing she did, too, because at that moment, Filch turned the corner. The lamp was still lit, but Rain left it there and ran through the halls.

She came to a sudden halt in front of a tall suit of armor. She had been so busy getting away from the library, she hadn't paid attention to where she was going. Perhaps because it was dark, she didn't recognize where she was at all. Or maybe it was someplace she hadn’t been before. She really needed to get out more.

A door stood ajar to her left.

Curiosity can be a dangerous thing, but Rain didn’t care. Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.

It looked like an unused classroom. The dark shapes of desks and chairs were piled against the walls, and there was an upturned wastepaper basket -- but propped against the wall facing her was something that didn't look as if it belonged there, something that looked as if someone had just put it there to keep it out of the way.

It was a magnificent mirror, as high as the ceiling, with an ornate gold frame, standing on two clawed feet. There was an inscription carved around the top: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.

Rain moved nearer to the mirror, wanting to look at herself but see no reflection again. She stepped in front of it.

She had to clap her hands to her mouth to stop herself from screaming. She whirled around. Her heart was pounding far more furiously than even when her broom was jinxed -- for she had seen not only herself in the mirror, but a whole crowd of people standing right behind her.

But the room was empty. Breathing very fast, she turned slowly back to the mirror.

There she was, reflected in it, white and scared-looking, and there, reflected behind her, were at least ten others. Rain looked over her shoulder -- but still, no one was there. Or were they all invisible, too? Was she in fact in a room full of invisible people and this mirror's trick was that it reflected them, invisible or not?

Rain looked in the mirror again. A woman standing right behind her reflection was smiling at her and waving. Rain reached out a hand and felt the air behind her. If the woman was really there, Rain would touch her, their reflections were so close together, but Rain felt only air -- she and the others existed only in the mirror.

She was a very pretty woman. She had dark red hair and her eyes -- _her_ _eyes_ _are_ _just_ _like_ _mine_ , Rain thought, edging a little closer to the glass. Bright green -- exactly the same shape, but then Rain noticed that she was crying; smiling, but crying at the same time. The tall, thin, black-haired man standing next to her put his arm around her. He wore glasses, and his hair was very untidy. It stuck up at the back, just as Rain's did.

"Mum?" Rain whispered. "Dad?"

They just looked at her, smiling. And slowly, Rain looked into the faces of the other people in the mirror, and saw other pairs of green eyes like hers, other noses like hers, even a little old man who looked as though he had Rain's knobbly knees -- Rain was looking at her family, for the first time in her life.

The Potters smiled and waved at Rain and she stared hungrily back at them, her hands pressed flat against the glass as though she was hoping to fall right through it and reach them. She had a powerful kind of ache inside her, half joy, half terrible sadness.

How long she stood there, she didn't know. The reflections did not fade and she looked and looked until a distant noise brought her back to her senses. She couldn't stay here, she had to find her way back to bed. She tore her eyes away from her mother's face, whispered, "I'll come back," and hurried from the room.

“You could have woken me up,” Ron said crossly.

"You can come tonight, I'm going back, I want to show you the mirror."

"I'd like to see your mum and dad," Ron said eagerly.

"And I want to see all your family, all the Weasleys, you'll be able to show me your other brothers and everyone."

"You can see them any old time," Ron said. "Just come round my house this summer. Anyway, maybe it only shows dead people."

With Ron covered in the cloak, too, they had to walk much more slowly the next night. They tried retracing Rain's route from the library, wandering around the dark passageways for nearly an hour.

"I'm freezing," Ron complained. "Let's forget it and go back."

"No!" Rain hissed. "I know it's here somewhere."

They passed the ghost of a tall witch gliding in the opposite direction, but saw no one else. Just as Ron started moaning that his feet were dead with cold, Rain spotted the suit of armor.

"It's here -- just here -- yes!"

They pushed the door open. Rain dropped the cloak from around her shoulders and ran to the mirror.

There they were. Her mother and father beamed at the sight of her.

"See?" Rain whispered.

"I can't see anything."

"Look! Look at them all. There are loads of them."

"I can only see you."

"Look in it properly, go on, stand where I am."

Rain stepped aside, but with Ron in front of the mirror, she couldn't see her family anymore, just Ron in his paisley pajamas.

Ron, though, was staring transfixed at his image.

"Look at me!" he said.

"Can you see all your family standing around you?"

"No -- I'm alone -- but I'm different -- I look older -- and I'm head boy!"

"What?"

"I am -- I'm wearing the badge like Bill used to -- and I'm holding the House Cup and the Quidditch Cup -- I'm quidditch captain, too."

Ron tore his eyes away from this splendid sight to look excitedly at Rain. "Do you think this mirror shows the future?"

"How can it? All my family are dead -- let me have another look --"

"You had it to yourself all last night, give me a bit more time."

Rain stepped back and looked again at the intricate mirror. Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi. Ishow no tyo urfac ebu tyo urhe arts desire. Ishownotyourfacebutyourheartsdesire. I show not your face but your hearts desire.

A sudden noise outside in the corridor put an end to their midnight rendezvous. They hadn't realized how long they'd been there.

"Quick!"

Ron threw the cloak back over them as the luminous eyes of Mrs. Norris came round the door. Ron and Rain stood quite still, both thinking the same thing -- did the cloak work on cats? After what seemed an age, she turned and left.

"This isn't safe -- she might have gone for Filch, I bet she heard us. Come on."

And Ron pulled Rain out of the room.

The snow still hadn't melted the next morning.

"Want to play chess, Rain?" Ron asked.

"No."

"Why don't we go down and visit Hagrid?"

"No. You go."

"I know what you're thinking about, Rain, that mirror. Don't go back tonight."

"Why not?"

"I dunno, I've just got a bad feeling about it -- and anyway, you've had too many close shaves already. Filch, Snape, and Mrs. Norris are wandering around. So what if they can't see you? What if they walk into you? What if you knock something over?"

"You sound like Hermione."

"I'm serious, Rain, don't go."

"It shows your heart's desire, Ron. What I want most is family. But that's an impossible dream."

Rain shuffled up the stairs to her dorm. Amity was coiled up on Rain's bed, snuggled into the emerald green sweater Mrs. Weasley sent her for Christmas. Rain sat down on the edge of her bed and loosely fingered the soft wool, waking Amity.

She lifted her head and placed it in Rain's lap. " _What'sss_ _wrong,_ _Amiga_. _"_

Rain subconsciously ran a finger over Amity's head. " _My_ _heart's_ _desire_ _is_ _a_ _family,_ _but_ _it's_ _impossible_ _to_ _get_. _"_

 _"Saysss_ _who?"_

Rain looked down at her familiar. " _My_ _family_ _is_ _dead_. _"_

" _Does_ _blood_ _make_ _a_ _family,_ _Amiga?_ _Are_ _the_ _Dursleys_ _your_ _family?"_

" _ No!" _

" _Then_ _why_ _can't_ _you_ _make_ _your_ _own_ _family?_ _You_ _are_ _the_ _only_ _family_ _I_ _have_ _and_ _we_ _are_ _not_ _related_." Rain smiled and picked up her Weasley sweater. " _Your_ _family_ _may_ _be_ _gone,_ _but_ _that_ _doesn't_ _mean_ _you_ _are_ _alone_. _"_ Amity wrapped herself around Rain's neck.

Rain stood up and pulled her sweater over her head. She decided to make one more trip to the mirror. To say goodbye.

But Rain stepped up to the mirror and was shocked to see a different image than the mass of her family. Well, her biological family.

It was still her reflection, and she now had Amity around her neck, but on either side of her was Ron and Hermione. She could also see Neville and Lavender and Seamus and Dean and Parvati and Fred and George and Percy and Ginny and Mrs. Weasley and who must have been Bill and Charlie and Mr. Weasley. Rain smiled and tugged her sweater tighter around her.

"Goodbye," she whispered.

"So -- back again, Rain?"

Rain felt as though her insides had turned to ice. She whirled around with a gasp. Sitting on one of the desks by the wall was none other than Albus Dumbledore. Rain must have walked straight past him, so desperate to get to the mirror she hadn't noticed him.

"I -- I didn't see you, sir."

"Strange how nearsighted being invisible can make you," Dumbledore said, and Rain was relieved to see that he was smiling.

"So," Dumbledore said, slipping off the desk to sit on the floor with Rain, "you, like hundreds before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised."

"But they're not delights are they? It shows you your heart's desire, but it's up to you what you do with that information," Rain argued.

"That's very wise, Rain." Dumbledore's eye's twinkled. "Might I ask what you have done with that information?"

Rain lifted her chin. "My choice is where I look for family. The Dursleys will never be my family and my parents are in my past. The only way for me to be happy is to reach for the future. The image I see has changed since last night, and right now, I have let my parents go. Probably for the first time since I found out what happened to them. I will always miss them, but I can never go back. I came here tonight to say goodbye and that's the end of it."


	11. The Fastest Game of Quidditch

<Rain Potter>

“Will you stop messing around?” Wood yelled.

Despite the pouring rain that replaced the snow of winter, Wood had the team out on the pitch running drills. The Weasleys complained that Wood was becoming a fanatic, but Rain understood his mindset. If they won their next match, against Hufflepuff, they would overtake Slytherin in the house championship for the first time in seven years.

Quite apart from wanting to win, Rain had no problem with being out in the rain.

This particular practice was an especially wet and muddy session.

The Weasleys joked, as they were apt to do, by dive-bombing each other and pretending to fall off their brooms.

"That's exactly the sort of thing that'll lose us the match!” Wood continued. “Snape's refereeing this time, and he'll be looking for any excuse to knock points off Gryffindor!"

George (Rain was pretty sure it was George) really did fall off his broom at these words.

"Snape's refereeing?" he spluttered through a mouthful of mud. "When's he ever refereed a Quidditch match? He's not going to be fair if we might overtake Slytherin."

The rest of the team landed next to George to complain, too.

"It's not my fault," Wood said. "We've just got to make sure we play a clean game, so Snape hasn't got an excuse to pick on us."

Great. He’ll also probably try to kill her again. And this time, he'll be in the air with her.

The rest of the team hung back to talk to one another as usual at the end of practice, but Rain didn’t feel up to it. She headed straight back to the Gryffindor common room, where she found Ron and Hermione playing chess. Chess was the only thing Hermione ever lost at, something Rain and Ron thought was very good for her.

"Don't talk to me for a moment," Ron said when Rain sat down next to him, "I need to concen -- "

He caught sight of Rain's face. "What's the matter with you? You look terrible."

Speaking quietly so that no one else would hear, Rain told the other two about Snape's sudden, sinister desire to be a quidditch referee.

"Don't play," Hermione said at once.

"Say you're ill," Ron said.

"Pretend to break your leg," Hermione suggested.

" _ Really _ break your leg," Ron said.

"I can't," Rain shook her head. "There isn't a reserve Seeker. If I back out, Gryffindor can't play at all."

At that moment Neville toppled into the common room. How he had managed to climb through the portrait hole was anyone's guess, because his legs had been stuck together with what they recognized at once as the Leg-Locker Curse. He must have had to bunny hop all the way up to Gryffindor tower.

Hermione jumped up and performed the counter curse amid bales of laughter.

Neville's legs sprang apart and he got to his feet, trembling.

"What happened?" Hermione asked him, leading him over to sit with Rain and Ron.

“Malfoy,” Neville said shakily. “I met him outside the library. He said he'd been looking for someone to practice that on."

"Go to Professor McGonagall!" Hermione urged Neville. "Report him!"

Neville shook his head.

"I don't want more trouble," he mumbled.

"You've got to stand up to him, Neville!" Ron said. "He's used to walking all over people, but that's no reason to lie down in front of him and make it easier."

"There's no need to tell me I'm not brave enough to be in Gryffindor, Malfoy's already done that," Neville choked out.

Rain felt in the pocket of her robes and pulled out a Chocolate Frog, the very last one from the box Hermione had given her for Christmas. She gave it to Neville, who looked as though he might cry.

"You're worth twelve of Malfoy," Rain said. "The Sorting Hat chose you for Gryffindor, didn't it? This is what we talked about on the train."

Neville's lips twitched in a weak smile as he unwrapped the frog. "Thanks, Rain. I think I'll go to bed. D'you want the card?"

As Neville walked away, Rain looked at the Famous Wizard card.

“Dumbledore,” she muttered.

_ALBUS_ _DUMBLEDORE_ _  
_ _CURRENTLY_ _HEADMASTER_ _OF_ _HOGWARTS_ _  
_ _Considered_ _by_ _many_ _the_ _greatest_ _wizard_ _of_ _modern_ _times,_ _Dumbledore_ _is_ _particularly_ _famous_ _for_ _his_ _defeat_ _of_ _the_ _dark_ _wizard_ _Grindelwald_ _in_ _1945,_ _for_ _the_ _discovery_ _of_ _the_ _twelve_ _uses_ _of_ _dragon's_ _blood,_ _and_ _his_ _work_ _on_ _alchemy_ _with_ _his_ _partner,_ _Nicolas_ _Flamel_. _Professor_ _Dumbledore_ _enjoys_ _chamber_ _music_ _and_ _tenpin_ _bowling_.

Rain gasped.

“What is it?” Hermione asked.

Rain had to be seeing things. She read the card again.

“I’ve found him!” she whispered excitedly. “I've found Flamel! Listen to this: 'Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel'!”

Hermione jumped to her feet. She hadn't looked so excited since they'd gotten back the marks for their very first piece of homework.

"Stay there!" she said, and she sprinted up the stairs to the girls' dormitories. Rain and Ron barely had time to exchange mystified looks before she was dashing back, an enormous old book in her arms.

"I never thought to look in here!" she whispered excitedly. "I got this out of the library weeks ago for a bit of light reading."

"Light?" Ron said, but Hermione told him to be quiet until she'd looked something up, and started flicking frantically through the pages, muttering to herself.

At last she found what she was looking for. "I knew it! I knew it!"

"Are we allowed to speak yet?" Ron asked grumpily.

Hermione ignored him.

"Nicolas Flamel," she whispered dramatically, "is the only known maker of the Philosopher's Stone!"

This didn't have quite the effect she'd expected.

"The what?" Rain and Ron asked.

"Oh, honestly, don't you two read? Look -- read that, there."

She pushed the book toward them, and Rain and Ron read:

_The_ _ancient_ _study_ _of_ _alchemy_ _is_ _concerned_ _with_ _making_ _the_ _Philosopher's_ _Stone,_ _a_ _legendary_ _substance_ _with_ _astonishing_ _powers_. _The_ _stone_ _will_ _transform_ _any_ _metal_ _into_ _pure_ _gold_. _It_ _also_ _produces_ _the_ _Elixir_ _of_ _Life,_ _which_ _will_ _make_ _the_ _drinker_ _immortal_.  
 _There_ _have_ _been_ _many_ _reports_ _of_ _the_ _Philosopher's_ _Stone_ _over_ _the_ _centuries,_ _but_ _the_ _only_ _Stone_ _currently_ _in_ _existence_ _belongs_ _to_ _Mr_. _Nicolas_ _Flamel,_ _the_ _noted_ _alchemist_ _and_ _opera_ _lover_. _Mr_. _Flamel,_ _who_ _celebrated_ _his_ _six_ _hundred_ _and_ _sixty-fifth_ _birthday_ _last_ _year,_ _enjoys_ _a_ _quiet_ _life_ _in_ _Devon_ _with_ _his_ _wife,_ _Perenelle_ _(six_ _hundred_ _and_ _fifty-eight)_.

"The dog must be guarding Flamel's Philosopher's Stone!” Hermione concluded. “I bet he asked Dumbledore to keep it safe for him, because they're friends and he knew someone was after it, that's why he wanted the Stone moved out of Gringotts!"

"A stone that makes gold and stops you from ever dying!" Ron said. "No wonder Snape's after it! Anyone would want it."

"And no wonder we couldn't find Flamel in that  Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry ,” Rain said with a grin. "He's not exactly recent if he's six hundred and sixty-five, is he?"

The three of them laughed.

***

One night, two days before the match, Rain could be found pacing the length of the common room.

Katie was staring at the burning embers of the fireplace.

Both looked up at the sound of multiple footsteps coming down the stairs.

It was Alicia and Angelina.

“I guess we’re all nervous,” Rain chuckled, causing the other girls to laugh.

“I don’t know how to get this energy out,” Alicia said, bouncing on her toes and shaking out her hands.

“Cooking,” Rain stated, resuming her pacing. “Baking. Always clears my head.”

“Then why not go to the kitchens?” Angelina asked.

Rain stopped mid-stride. “There are kitchens here?”

“Of course,” Alicia said. “Where did you think all the food came from?”

“I know, it’s just -- i didn’t think -- where are they?”

Alicia shrugged.

“The twins know,” Angelina recalled. “Be right back.”

She disappeared up the stairs to the boys dorms and reappeared a minute later with twins behind her. They didn’t look to have been sleeping either.

“We’re heading to the kitchens, then?”

“Follow us, ladies.”

The boys led them to the Entrance Hall. There was an unnoticeable door off to the side revealing a brightly lit corridor filled with paintings of food. The twins stopped in front of one of a bowl of fruit.

The girls all exchanged curious looks as George (99 percent sure it was George) tickled the pear in the painting. It giggled and morphed into a big, green handle.

On the other side was the kitchen. Or the Great Hall. No, it was definitely the kitchens. It was the  _ size _ of the Great Hall and had the four House Tables and the High Table, but contrary to the Great Hall, it also had a large brick fireplace behind the High Table and pots and pans were stacked ceiling high all along the walls.

“Whoa,” Alicia said.

“This is amazing!” Rain exclaimed.

“How’d you find it?” Katie asked.

“It’s the Great Hall,” Angelina said.

There was a pop and a little creature with large, bat-like ears and bulging brown eyes the size of tennis balls.

Rain jumped backwards with a noise of surprise.

“Can Topsy do anything for young Masters and Mistresses?”

“Um, yeah, Topsy, we’d like…” George looked back at the girls. “What are we here for exactly?”

The girls all turned to Rain.

She looked between them. “Uh, do you guys want to try too?”

“Why not?” Katie said. “It’ll be better than sitting around.”

“Maybe it’ll get rid of this energy,” Alicia agreed.

“Let’s try it,” Angelina said.

“We’re in,” the twins said.

“Alright,” Rain smiled. “We’re going to need mixing bowls, whisks, knives, cutting boards and saucepans for each of us. Plenty of heavy whipping cream, sugar, salt, apples, pumpkin juice, and you can choose your favorite fruit to go with the apples.”

Topsy disappeared and returned with the items Rain recited with a pop.

“Um, what was that?” Rain whispered to Angelina.

“What was what?”

“Topsy.”

“Oh,” Angelina realized. “That’s a House-Elf. They work for families or places like Hogwarts.”

Rain didn’t really understand, but didn’t have time to think on it.

Rain taught her teammates to slice the apples for cooking and put three cups of apple slices (most of which were done by Rain to save time), a dash of salt, third a cup of sugar, and a quarter cup of pumpkin juice in their saucepans. They didn’t even know how to tell when their mix was boiling. Once their fruit was boiling, Rain instructed and showed them how to bring it to simmer and check the tenderness of the apples. Once tender, they dismissed the use of blenders and fridges, mostly because the Wizarding World didn’t have those things, and instead used charms, much to Rain’s annoyance. It took a bit of instruction to teach her teammates how to whip cream, but they each had a bowl of acceptable whipped cream by the end and they gently folded their favorite fruit (Rain chose strawberries) and their sauces into the cream.

They sat at the kitchen’s High Table, and dove into their homemade treats.

“This is delicious!” Katie said after her first bite.

“Where did you learn to make this?” Angelina asked.

“I do a lot of cooking at home,” Rain said.

“It’s even better than the desserts here!” Alicia said.

“That’s because you made it yourself,” Rain smiled.

“What do you mean?” the twins asked.

“It’s always better and more rewarding to have put in the effort,” Rain said. She took the opportunity to study Fred and George sitting across the table. There wasn’t anything different about them. They were perfectly identical. And yet, seeing them sitting side-by-side, they were completely different and she just knew which was which. It was something separate from physical appearances. And she didn’t know what it was.

***

Rain knew, when they wished her good luck outside the locker rooms the next afternoon, that Ron and Hermione were wondering whether they'd ever see her alive again.

That wasn’t exactly what you’d call comforting.

Rain hardly heard a word of Wood's pep talk as she pulled on her quidditch robes with Angelina, Alicia, and Katie. She came back to the present when Angelina put her hand on Rain's shoulder.

"You'll be fine," Angelina assured.

Rain nodded and picked up her Nimbus 2000.

Wood pulled her aside. “Don't want to pressure you, Potter, but if we ever need an early capture of the Snitch it's now. Finish the game before Snape can favor Hufflepuff too much."

"The whole school's out there!" Fred said, peering out of the door. "Even -- blimey -- Dumbledore's come to watch!"

Rain's heart did a somersault.

"Dumbledore?" she repeated, dashing to the door to make sure. She ducked under Fred's arm to peak through the crack. Fred was right. There was no mistaking that silver beard. "I think I'm going to throw up."

"You'll be fine." Fred clapped her on the back.

***

The game was going horribly.

Snape awarded Hufflepuff a penalty because George hit a Bludger at him, which didn’t happen. If Cedric Diggory, Hufflepuff’s Seeker, just happened to be behind Snape, that wasn’t George’s fault.

Then Snape awarded Hufflepuff a penalty for absolutely no reason.

Rain grit her teeth, circling the pitch above the game.

There it was. Just a slight flash of gold, but Rain locked onto it, determined not to lose sight of the Snitch.

Rain dove.

And if her foot was just a little too far out when she passed Snape so that it nailed him in the stomach...that was an accident. Yep. A total accident. She doesn’t know how that happened.

She pulled out of her dive, her arm raised in triumph, the Snitch’s wings fluttering lightly against her hand.

Rain jumped off her broom, a foot from the ground. She couldn't believe it. She'd done it -- the game was over; it had barely lasted five minutes. As Gryffindors came spilling onto the field, she saw Snape land nearby, white-faced and tight-lipped -- then Rain felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up into Dumbledore's smiling face.

"Well done," Dumbledore said quietly, so that only Rain could hear. "Nice to see you haven't been brooding about that mirror...been keeping busy...excellent..."

Rain was enveloped in cheerful hugs by her teammates and she forgot Dumbledore’s words in the celebrating aftermath.

<Ron Weasley>

"Now, don't forget, it's Locomotor Mortis," Hermione muttered as Ron slipped his wand up his sleeve.

He and Hermione found a place in the stands next to Neville, who couldn't understand why they looked so grim and worried, or why they had both brought their wands to the match. Little did Rain know that Ron and Hermione had been secretly practicing the Leg-Locker Curse. They'd gotten the idea from Malfoy using it on Neville, and were ready to use it on Snape if he showed any sign of wanting to hurt Rain.

"I know," Ron snapped. "Don't nag."

"I've never seen Snape look so mean," he told Hermione. "Look -- they're off. Ouch!"

Someone poked Ron in the back of the head. It was Malfoy.

"Oh, sorry, Weasley, didn't see you there,” he grinned broadly at Crabbe and Goyle. "Wonder how long Potter's going to stay on her broom this time? Anyone want a bet? What about you, Weasley?"

Ron didn't answer; Snape had just awarded Hufflepuff a penalty because George hit a Bludger at him. Hermione, who had all her fingers crossed in her lap, was squinting fixedly at Rain, who was circling the game like a hawk, looking for the Snitch.

"You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team?" Malfoy said loudly a few minutes later, as Snape awarded Hufflepuff another penalty for no reason at all. "It's people they feel sorry for. See, there's Potter, who's got no parents, then there's the Weasleys, who've got no money -- you should be on the team, Longbottom, you've got no brains."

Neville went bright red but turned in his seat to face Malfoy.

"I'm worth twelve of you, Malfoy," he stammered.

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle howled with laughter, but Ron, still not daring to take his eyes from the game, said, "You tell him, Neville.”

"Longbottom, if brains were gold you'd be poorer than Weasley, and that's saying something."

Ron's nerves were already stretched to the breaking point with anxiety about Rain.

"I'm warning you, Malfoy -- one more word --"

"Ron!" Hermione said suddenly, "Rain --"

"What? Where?"

Rain had suddenly gone into a spectacular dive, which drew gasps and cheers from the crowd. Hermione stood up, her crossed fingers in her mouth, as Rain streaked toward the ground like a bullet.

"You're in luck, Weasley, Potter's obviously spotted some money on the ground!" Malfoy said.

Ron snapped. Before Malfoy knew what was happening, Ron was on top of him, wrestling him to the ground. Neville hesitated, then clambered over the back of his seat to help.

"Come on, Rain!" Hermione screamed, leaping onto her seat to watch as Rain sped straight at Snape -- she didn't even notice Malfoy and Ron rolling around under her seat, or the scuffles and yelps coming from the whirl of fists that was Neville, Crabbe, and Goyle.

Rain had pulled out of the dive, her arm raised in triumph, the Snitch clasped in her hand.

The stands erupted; it had to be a record, no one could ever remember the Snitch being caught so quickly.

"Ron! Ron! Where are you? The game's over! Rain's won! We've won! Gryffindor is in the lead!" Hermione shrieked, dancing up and down on her seat and hugging Parvati in the row in front.

<Rain Potter>

Hermione and Ron waited for her outside the locker room. Rain was the last person to leave, taking the time to enjoy the release of the pent up nerves that had been building for days.

"We won! You won! We won!" Ron shouted, thumping Rain on the back so hard she nearly fell over. "And I gave Malfoy a black eye, and Neville tried to take on Crabbe and Goyle single-handed! He's still out cold but Madam Pomfrey says he'll be alright -- talk about showing Slytherin! We’re waiting for you in the common room, we're having a party, Fred and George stole some cakes and stuff from the kitchens."

They entered the common room and the twins scurried over to the trio.

"Rain!"

"There you are!"

"Come on, you're the guest of honor!" The twins then lifted her up onto their shoulders as was starting to become a habit and walked into the center of the room, and the cheers grew to be deafening.

When the twins finally let her down, in the midst of the crowd, she turned to face them and yelled to be heard over the chatter. "I figured it out."

The twins furrowed their brows and glanced at each other.

"Figured what out?" George asked.

"How to tell you apart!" she answered with a grin.

"Really?" Fred crossed his arms. "And how do you do that?"

Her grin grew.

“That would be telling!" she winked.

"Bye Fred, bye George," she addressed each of them individually and left, weaving through the crowd to join the other first years, leaving behind two very shocked twins with their mouths hanging agape.


	12. The Norwegian Ridgeback

<Rain Potter>

Rain excitedly waited for Parvati, Lavender, and Hermione to fall asleep. She needed to get out of the dorms for a moment and she had been dying to explore the Forbidden Forest even since the Welcoming Feast on September first.

She strode through the empty, dark halls.

Fred and George were right, she  _ was _ very good at keeping quiet. Uncle Vernon was a very light sleeper and woke up at the slightest creak of the stairs or the door when Rain needed to slip into the kitchen for food after they had fallen asleep. She quickly learned how to walk without making any noise.

So she didn’t fret when she heard footsteps coming her way, knowing they wouldn’t hear her.

She recognized the figure's prowling walk: Snape.

He headed into the Great Hall, a perfect place to not be seen. No one enters the Great Hall except for meals, or unless a student under their invisibility cloak sees him enter and is unable to sooth their curiosity.

Rain didn’t dare try to squeeze through the miniscule crack in the Great Hall doors. She had no idea how much they squeaked. She’d have to come back and test it out.

Quirrell was there, Rain realized. She couldn’t see his face in the shadows, but his stuttering was worse than ever. She strained to catch what they were saying.

"...d-don't know why you wanted t-t-to meet here of all p-places, Severus..."

"Oh, I thought we'd keep this private," Snape said, his voice icy. "Students aren't supposed to know about the Philosopher's Stone, after all."

"Have you found out how to get past that beast of Hagrid's yet?" Snape questioned.

"B-b-but Severus, I --"

"You don't want me as your enemy, Quirrell," Snape said, taking a step toward him.

"I-I don't know what you --"

"You know perfectly well what I mean."

There was a distant thump of an unknown origin, but it made Rain glance in the direction she thought it came from. She tuned back into the conversation in time to hear Snape say, "-- your little bit of hocus-pocus. I'm waiting."

"B-but I d-d-don't --"

"Very well," Snape cut in. "We'll have another little chat soon, when you've had time to think things over and decided where your loyalties lie."

She realized he was heading for the doors and stepped back into an alcove formed by two suits of armor so he wouldn’t run into her.

***

After breakfast the next day, Rain hurriedly pulled Ron and Hermione into an empty classroom before class.

She made sure Peeves wasn't inside before shutting the door behind them, then she told them what she'd seen and heard.

"So we were right, it is the Philosopher's Stone,” Ron said, “and Snape's trying to force Quirrell to help him get it. He asked if he knew how to get past Fluffy -- and he said something about Quirrell's 'hocus pocus' -- I reckon there are other things guarding the stone apart from Fluffy, loads of enchantments, probably, and Quirrell would have done some anti-Dark Arts spell that Snape needs to break through --”

"So you mean the Stone's only safe as long as Quirrell stands up to Snape?" Hermione said in alarm.

"It'll be gone by next Tuesday," Ron said morosely.

Every time they passed the third-floor corridor, Rain, Ron, and Hermione would press their ears to the door to check that Fluffy was still growling inside. Snape was sweeping about in his usual bad temper, which surely meant that the Stone was still safe.

Hermione, however, had more on her mind than the Philosopher's Stone. She had started drawing up study schedules and color coding all her notes. Rain and Ron wouldn't have minded, but she kept nagging them to do the same.

"Hermione, the exams are ages away."

"Ten weeks," Hermione snapped. "That's not ages, that's like a second to Nicolas Flamel."

"But we're not six hundred years old." Ron reminded her. "Anyway, it’s not that important."

“Are you crazy? You realize we need to pass these exams to get into the second year? They're very important, I should have started studying a month ago, I don't know what's gotten into me."

Rain rolled her eyes. She didn’t like to study. Well, no one  _ liked _ to study, but Rain typically didn’t need to. She had a wonderful memory, one that let her read and remember whatever she needed to. It was how she could read far more advanced material from the library. Her theory was perfect, but her practical was what needed work.

Unfortunately, the teachers seemed to be thinking along the same lines as Hermione. They piled so much homework on them that the Easter holidays weren't nearly as much fun as the Christmas ones. It was hard to relax with Hermione next to you reciting the twelve uses of dragon's blood or practicing wand movements. Moaning and yawning, Rain and Ron spent most of their free time in the library with her, trying to get through all their extra work.

"I'll never remember this!" Ron burst out one afternoon, throwing down his quill and looking longingly out of the library window. It was the first really fine day they'd had in months. The sky was a clear, forget-me-not blue, and there was a feeling in the air of summer coming.

Rain, who was trying to copy the wand movement for the severing charm from the book, didn’t look up until she heard Ron say, "Hagrid! What are you doing in the library?"

Hagrid shuffled into view, hiding something behind his back. He looked very out of place in his moleskin overcoat.

"Jus' lookin'," he said, in a shifty voice that got their interest at once. "An' what're you lot up ter?" He looked suddenly suspicious. "Yer not still lookin' fer Nicolas Flamel, are yeh?"

"Oh, we found out who he is ages ago," Ron said passively. "And we know what that dog's guarding, it's a Philosopher's St --"

"Shhhh!" Hagrid looked around quickly to see if anyone was listening. "Don' go shoutin' about it, what's the matter with yeh?"

"There are a few things we wanted to ask you, as a matter of fact," Rain said, "about what's guarding the Stone apart from Fluffy --"

"SHHHH!" Hagrid said again. "Listen -- come an' see me later, I'm not promisin' I'll tell yeh anythin', mind, but don' go rabbitin' about it in here, students aren' s'pposed ter know. They'll think I've told yeh --"

"See you later, then," Rain agreed.

Hagrid shuffled off.

"What was he hiding behind his back?" Hermione asked thoughtfully.

"Do you think it had anything to do with the Stone?"

"I'm going to see what section he was in," Ron said, who'd had enough of working. He came back a minute later with a pile of books in his arms and slammed them down on the table.

"Dragons!" he whispered. "Hagrid was looking up stuff about dragons! Look at these:  Dragon Species of Great Britain and Ireland ;  From Egg to Inferno ,  A Dragon Keeper's Guide ."

"Hagrid's always wanted a dragon, he told me so the first time I ever met him," Rain said.

"But it's against our laws," Ron said. "Dragon breeding was outlawed by the Warlocks' Convention of 1709, everyone knows that. It's hard to stop Muggles from noticing us if we're keeping dragons in the back garden -- anyway, you can't tame dragons, it's dangerous. You should see the burns Charlie's got off wild ones in Romania."

"But there aren't wild dragons in Britain?" Rain asked.

"Of course there are," Ron said. "Common Welsh Green and Hebridean Blacks. The Ministry of Magic has a job hushing them up, I can tell you. Our kind have to keep putting spells on Muggles who've spotted them, to make them forget."

"So what on earth's Hagrid up to?" Hermione wondered.

When they knocked on the door of the gamekeeper's hut an hour later, they were surprised to see that all the curtains were closed. Hagrid called "Who is it?" before he let them in, and then shut the door quickly behind them.

It was stifling hot inside. Even though it was such a warm day, there was a blazing fire in the grate. Hagrid made them tea and offered them stoat sandwiches, which they refused.

"So -- yeh wanted to ask me somethin'?"

"Yes," Rain said. There was no point beating around the bush. "We were wondering if you could tell us what's guarding the Philosopher's Stone apart from Fluffy."

Hagrid frowned at her.

"O' course I can't," he said. "Number one, I don' know meself. Number two, yeh know too much already, so I wouldn' tell yeh if I could. That stone's here fer a good reason. It was almost stolen outta Gringotts -- I s'ppose yeh've worked that out an' all? Beats me how yeh even know abou' Fluffy."

"Oh, come on, Hagrid, you might not want to tell us, but you do know, you know everything that goes on round here," Hermione said in a warm, flattering voice. Hagrid's beard twitched and they could tell he was smiling. "We only wondered who had done the guarding, really." Hermione went on. "We wondered who Dumbledore had trusted enough to help him, apart from you."

Hagrid's chest swelled at these last words. Rain and Ron beamed at Hermione.

"Well, I don' s'pose it could hurt ter tell yeh that. Let's see, he borrowed Fluffy from me, then some o' the teachers did enchantments. Professor Sprout -- Professor Flitwick -- Professor McGonagall -- " he ticked them off on his fingers, "Professor Quirrell -- an' Dumbledore himself did somethin', o' course. Hang on, I've forgotten someone. Oh yeah, Professor Snape."

"Snape?" Ron repeated.

"Yeah -- yer not still on abou' that, are yeh? Look, Snape helped protect the Stone, he's not about ter steal it."

Rain knew Ron and Hermione were thinking the same as she was. If Snape had been in on protecting the Stone, it must have been easy to find out how the other teachers had guarded it. He probably knew everything -- except, it seemed, Quirrell's spell and how to get past Fluffy.

"You're the only one who knows how to get past Fluffy. Aren't you, Hagrid?" Rain questioned anxiously. "And you wouldn't tell anyone, would you? Not even one of the teachers?"

"Not a soul knows except me an' Dumbledore," Hagrid said proudly.

"Well, that's something," Rain muttered to the others.

"Hagrid, can we have a window open? I'm boiling,” Rain said.

"Can't, Rain, sorry," Hagrid said. He glanced at the fire. Rain looked at it, too.

"Hagrid...what's that?"

But she already knew what it was. In the very heart of the fire, underneath the kettle, was a huge, black egg.

"Ah," Hagrid said, fiddling nervously with his beard, "That's -- er..."

"Where did you get it, Hagrid?" Ron asked, crouching over the fire to get a closer look at the egg. "It must've cost you a fortune.”

"Won it," Hagrid stated proudly. "Las' night. I was down in the village havin' a few drinks an' got into a game o' cards with a stranger. Think he was quite glad ter get rid of it, ter be honest."

"But what are you going to do with it when it's hatched?" Hermione asked.

"Well, I've bin doin' some readin'," Hagrid said, pulling a large book from under his pillow. "Got this outta the library --  Dragon Breeding for Pleasure and Profit \-- it's a bit outta date, o' course, but it's all in here. Keep the egg in the fire, 'cause their mothers breathe on 'em, see, an' when it hatches, feed it a bucket o' brandy mixed with chicken blood every half hour. An' see here -- how ter recognize diff'rent eggs -- what I got there's a Norwegian Ridgeback. They're rare, them."

He looked very pleased with himself, but Hermione didn't.

"Hagrid, you live in a wooden house," she reminded him.

But Hagrid wasn't listening. He was humming merrily as he stoked the fire.

So now they had something else to worry about: what might happen to Hagrid if anyone found out he was hiding an illegal dragon in his hut.

"Wonder what it's like to have a peaceful life," Ron sighed, as evening after evening they struggled through all the extra homework they were getting. Hermione had now started making study schedules for Rain and Ron, too. It was driving them nuts.

Then, one breakfast time, an owl brought Rain another note from Hagrid. He had written only two words: _It's_ _hatching_.

Ron wanted to skip Herbology and go straight down to the hut. Hermione wouldn't hear of it.

"Hermione, how many times in our lives are we going to see a dragon hatching?"

"We've got lessons, we'll get into trouble, and that's nothing to what Hagrid's going to be in when someone finds out what he's doing --"

"Shut up!" Rain hissed.

Malfoy was only a few feet away and he had stopped dead to listen. How much had he heard? Rain didn't like the look on Malfoy's face at all.

Ron and Hermione argued all the way to Herbology and in the end, Hermione agreed to run down to Hagrid's with the other two during morning break. When the bell sounded from the castle at the end of their lesson, the three of them dropped their trowels at once and hurried through the grounds to the edge of the forest. Hagrid greeted them, looking flushed and excited.

"It's nearly out." He ushered them inside.

The egg was lying on the table. There were deep cracks in it. Something was moving inside; a funny clicking noise was coming from it.

They all drew their chairs up to the table and watched with bated breath.

All at once there was a scraping noise and the egg split open. The baby dragon flopped onto the table. It wasn't exactly pretty; Rain thought it looked like a crumpled, black umbrella. Its spiny wings were huge compared to its skinny jet body, it had a long snout with wide nostrils, the stubs of horns and bulging, orange eyes.

It sneezed. A couple of sparks flew out of its snout.

"Isn't he beautiful?" Hagrid murmured. He reached out a hand to stroke the dragon's head. It snapped at his fingers, showing pointed fangs.

"Bless him, look, he knows his Mummy!" Hagrid said happily.

“Hagrid,” Hermione said warily, "how fast do Norwegian Ridgebacks grow, exactly?"

Hagrid was about to answer when the color suddenly drained from his face -- he leapt to his feet and ran to the window.

“What’s the matter?” Rain asked.

"Someone was lookin' through the gap in the curtains -- it's a kid -- he's runnin' back up ter the school."

Rain bolted to the door and looked out. Even at a distance there was no mistaking him.

Malfoy had seen the dragon.


	13. The Illegal Smuggling Ring of Hogwarts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so glad this story is being liked. Thanks so much to all you guys reading and leaving kudos and commenting.

<Rain Potter>

Something about the smile lurking on Malfoy's face during the next week made Rain, Ron, and Hermione very nervous. They spent most of their free time in Hagrid's darkened hut, trying to reason with him.

"Just let him go," Rain urged. "Set him free."

“I can’t,” Hagrid protested. “He’s too little. He’d die.”

They looked at the dragon. It had grown three times in length in just a week. Smoke kept furling out of its nostrils. Hagrid hadn't been doing his gamekeeping duties because the dragon was keeping him so busy. There were empty brandy bottles and chicken feathers all over the floor.

“I’ve decided to call him Norbert,” Hagrid announced, looking at the dragon with misty eyes. “He really knows me now, watch. Norbert! Norbert! Where’s Mummy?”

“He’s lost his marbles,” Ron muttered in Rain’s ear.

"Hagrid," Rain said loudly, "give it two weeks and Norbert's going to be as long as your house. Malfoy could go to Dumbledore at any moment."

Hagrid bit his lip.

"I -- I know I can't keep him forever, but I can't jus' dump him, I can't."

Rain suddenly turned to Ron. "Charlie."

"You're losing it, too," Ron said. "I'm Ron, remember?"

"No -- Charlie -- your brother, Charlie. In Romania. Studying dragons," Rain recalled. "We could send Norbert to him. Charlie can take care of him and then put him back in the wild!"

“Brilliant!” Ron agreed. “How about it, Hagrid?”

And in the end, Hagrid agreed that they could send an owl to Charlie to ask him.

The following week dragged by. Wednesday night found Hermione and Rain sitting alone in the common room, long after everyone else had gone to bed. The clock on the wall had just chimed midnight when the portrait hole burst open. Ron appeared out of nowhere as he pulled off Rain's invisibility cloak. He had been down at Hagrid's hut, helping him feed Norbert, who was now eating dead rats by the crate.

"It bit me!" he cried, showing them his hand, which was wrapped in a bloody handkerchief. "I'm not going to be able to hold a quill for a week. I tell you, that dragon's the most horrible animal I've ever met, but the way Hagrid goes on about it, you'd think it was a fluffy little bunny rabbit. When it bit me, he told me off for frightening it. And when I left, he was singing it a lullaby."

There was a tap on the dark window.

"It's the owl!" Rain said, hurrying to let it in. "It'll have Charlie's answer!"

The three of them put their heads together to read the note.

_Dear_ _Ron,_ _  
_ _How_ _are_ _you?_ _Thanks_ _for_ _the_ _letter_ _\--_ _I'd_ _be_ _glad_ _to_ _take_ _the_ _Norwegian_ _Ridgeback,_ _but_ _it_ _won't_ _be_ _easy_ _getting_ _him_ _here_. _I_ _think_ _the_ _best_ _thing_ _will_ _be_ _to_ _send_ _him_ _over_ _with_ _some_ _friends_ _of_ _mine_ _who_ _are_ _coming_ _to_ _visit_ _me_ _next_ _week_. _Trouble_ _is,_ _they_ _mustn't_ _be_ _seen_ _carrying_ _an_ _illegal_ _dragon_.  
 _Could_ _you_ _get_ _the_ _Ridgeback_ _up_ _the_ _tallest_ _tower_ _at_ _midnight_ _on_ _Saturday?_ _They_ _can_ _meet_ _you_ _there_ _and_ _take_ _him_ _away_ _while_ _it's_ _still_ _dark_.  
 _Send_ _me_ _an_ _answer_ _as_ _soon_ _as_ _possible_.  
 _Love,_ _  
_ _Charlie_

They looked at one another.

"We've got the invisibility cloak," Rain said. "It shouldn't be too difficult -- I think the cloak’s big enough to cover two of us and Norbert."

It was a mark of how bad the last week had been that the other two agreed with her without complaint. Anything to get rid of Norbert -- and Malfoy.

There was a hitch. By the next morning, Ron's bitten hand had swollen to twice its usual size. He didn't know whether it was safe to go to Madam Pomfrey -- would she recognize a dragon bite? By the afternoon, though, he had no choice. The cut had turned a nasty shade of green. It looked as if Norbert's fangs were poisonous.

Rain and Hermione rushed up to the hospital wing at the end of the day to find Ron in a terrible state in bed.

"It's not just my hand," he whispered, "although that feels like it's about to fall off. Malfoy told Madam Pomfrey he wanted to borrow one of my books so he could come and have a good laugh at me. He kept threatening to tell her what really bit me -- I've told her it was a dog, but I don't think she believes me -- I shouldn't have hit him at the quidditch match, that's why he's doing this."

Rain and Hermione tried to calm Ron down.

"It'll all be over at midnight on Saturday," Hermione said, but this didn't soothe Ron at all. On the contrary, he sat bolt upright and broke into a sweat.

"Midnight on Saturday!" he said in a hoarse voice. "Oh no, oh no -- I've just remembered -- Charlie's letter was in that book Malfoy took, he's going to know we're getting rid of Norbert."

Rain and Hermione didn't get a chance to answer. Madam Pomfrey came over at that moment and made them leave, saying Ron needed sleep.

"It's too late to change the plan now," Rain told Hermione. "We haven't got time to send Charlie another owl, and this could be our only chance to get rid of Norbert. We'll have to risk it. And we have got the invisibility cloak, Malfoy doesn't know about that."

They found Fang, the boarhound, sitting outside with a bandaged tail when they went to tell Hagrid, who opened a window to talk to them.

"I won't let you in," he puffed. "Norbert's at a tricky stage -- nothin' I can't handle."

When they told him about Charlie's letter, his eyes filled with tears, although that might have been because Norbert had just bitten him on the leg.

"Aargh! It's all right, he only got my boot -- jus' playin' -- he's only a baby, after all."

The baby banged its tail on the wall, making the windows rattle. Rain and Hermione walked back to the castle feeling Saturday couldn't come quickly enough.

They would have felt sorry for Hagrid when the time came for him to say good-bye to Norbert if they hadn't been so worried about what they had to do. It was a very dark, cloudy night, and they were a bit late arriving at Hagrid's hut because they'd had to wait for Peeves to get out of their way in the entrance hall, where he'd been playing tennis against the wall. Hagrid had Norbert packed and ready in a large crate.

"He's got lots o' rats an' some brandy fer the journey," Hagrid said in a muffled voice. "An' I've packed his teddy bear in case he gets lonely."

From inside the crate came ripping noises that sounded as though the teddy was having his head torn off.

"Bye-bye, Norbert!" Hagrid sobbed, as Rain and Hermione covered the crate with the invisibility cloak and stepped underneath it themselves. "Mummy will never forget you!”

How they managed to get the crate back up to the castle, they never knew. Midnight ticked nearer as they heaved Norbert up the marble staircase in the entrance hall and along the dark corridors. Up another staircase, then another -- even one of Rain's shortcuts didn't make the work much easier.

"Nearly there!" Rain panted as they reached the corridor beneath the tallest tower.

Then a sudden movement ahead of them made them almost drop the crate. Forgetting that they were already invisible, they shrank into the shadows, staring at the dark outlines of two people grappling with each other ten feet away. A lamp flared.

Professor McGonagall, in a tartan bathrobe and a hair net, had Malfoy by the ear.

"Detention!" she shouted. "And twenty points from Slytherin! Wandering around in the middle of the night, how dare you --"

"You don't understand, Professor. Rain Potter's coming -- she's got a dragon!"

"What utter rubbish! How dare you tell such lies! Come on -- I shall see Professor Snape about you, Malfoy!"

The steep spiral staircase up to the top of the tower seemed the easiest thing in the world after that. Not until they'd stepped out into the cold night air did they throw off the cloak, glad to be able to breathe properly again.

Hermione did a sort of jig. "Malfoy's got detention! I could sing!"

"Don't," Rain advised her. "We're not out of the woods yet."

They waited, Norbert thrashing about in his crate. About ten minutes later, four broomsticks came swooping down out of the darkness.

Charlie's friends were a cheery lot. They showed Rain and Hermione the harness they'd rigged up, so they could suspend Norbert between them. They all helped buckle Norbert safely into it and then Rain and Hermione shook hands with the others and thanked them very much.

At last, Norbert was going...going...gone.

They threw the cloak back over themselves and scurried back to Gryffindor Tower, never knowing how close they came to being caught by Filch had they not remembered the invisibility cloak.

***

Even with all the studying for final exams, the last minute quidditch practices for the upcoming match for the Quidditch Cup, and double-checking Fluffy was still in the third floor corridor, Rain found a moment of calm to  _ finally _ get out to the Forbidden Forest.

She didn’t get what was so scary about it.

It was a pretty magical place, and once within its trees, Rain felt her magic anchoring in a way it hadn’t before.

Looking around at the never array of trees, she could understand how easy it could be to get lost, but she had no fear. She trusted her feet to lead her out when she so desired.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?”

This time, Rain didn’t jump when Fred’s voice carried out from the shadows.

She smiled. “Just a couple of mischief makers. And what are you two up to?”

“Gathering supplies,” George answered vaguely.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Fred chastised, but he was grinning. “This forest is  _ forbidden _ , you know.”

“It’s  _ forbidden _ to you too,” Rain said, putting her hands on her hips. “I think you’re just trying to get rid of me.”

“Why would you think that?” Fred asked.

Rain looked down at the sack in his hand that started squirming and squealing.

“Fair point,” Fred conceded.

“Need any help?” Rain offered.

The twins glanced between each other, debating whether to divulge their plans.

“Think you can catch a pixie?”

***

It was a lot harder than it sounds.

The pixies revealed themselves only to trick Fred, George, and Rain deeper into the woods.

How the twins caught the others, the ones already in Fred’s sack, she would never know.

It was only due to Rain’s training as Seeker that she found one hiding behind a tree branch,

She jumped suddenly, causing the twins to stumble back in surprise, but she managed to grab the pixie’s wings and tossed it into their sack.

Rain let Fred and George lead the way back to the castle, mindlessly following the boys, until she nearly stepped into a pool of silvery liquid. “What’s this?”

She crouched down to get a closer look.

“This looks like unicorn blood,” George said.

“A unicorn?” Rain repeated. “What would want to hurt a unicorn?”

The twins glanced at each other. “Nothing good.”

There was a blood trail; splashes on the roots of a tree, as though the poor creature had been thrashing around in pain. Rain thought the blood seemed to be getting thicker. She could see a clearing ahead, through the tangled branches of an ancient oak.

"Look --" she murmured, pointing. Something bright white was gleaming on the ground. They inched closer.

It was the unicorn alright, and it was dying. Rain had never seen anything so beautiful and sad. Its long, slender legs were stuck out at odd angles where it had fallen and its mane was spread pearly-white on the dark leaves. Its stomach heaved with each breath.

Rain tread lightly over the dry underbrush, and the unicorn watched her mournfully. Rain knelt on the ground and moved the unicorn’s head into her lap.

Fred and George took a step forward, but stopped when the unicorn squealed in distress.

“Shhh,” Rain urged, petting its snout.

“A unicorn only shows itself to a virtuous maiden,” George recited, whispering in an effort not to spook the creature.

“Poor thing,” Rain murmured, tears gathering in her eyes. She didn’t stop her stroking. “It’s okay.”

The unicorn nuzzled her hand and let out one final huff, the light dimming from its eyes.

Rain rose slowly, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand. She froze as a slithering sound reached her ears. A bush on the edge of the clearing quivered. She hurried over to the twins and the three of them ducked behind a tree. Out of the shadows, a hooded figure came crawling across the ground like some stalking beast. The cloaked figure reached the unicorn, lowered its head over the wound in the animal's side, and began to drink its blood.

Rain took half a step backwards and stepped on a twig, snapping it in half with a loud CRACK!

The hooded figure raised its head and looked right at Rain -- unicorn blood was dribbling down its front. It got to its feet and came swiftly towards the students.

Fred and George tugged on her arms, but Rain didn’t move; she couldn’t.

A pain like she’d never felt before pierced her head; it was as though her scar was on fire. Half blind with pain, she staggered backward, the twins being the only thing keeping her upright.

She heard hooves behind her, galloping, and something jumped clean over them, charging at the figure.

The pain in Rain's head was so bad she fell to her knees. It took a minute or two to pass. When she looked up, the figure had gone. A centaur was standing over her. He had white-blonde hair and a palomino body.

“Are you alright?” the centaur asked and the twins pulled her to her feet.

“Yes,” Rain gasped. “Thank you -- what was that?”

The centaur didn't answer. He had astonishingly blue eyes, like pale sapphires. He looked carefully at Rain, his eyes lingering on the scar that stood out, livid, on Rain's forehead. "You are the Potter girl. You better get out of here. The forest is not safe at this time -- especially for you. Can you ride? It will be quicker this way."


End file.
